Incredible
by FHGVZEhyde
Summary: Set in the world of The Incredibles. Virgil is Lucius' son. The Bests and the Parrs make up a super hero crime-fighting team following the events of Syndrome. One day, Virgil discovers another super hiding amongst his high school peers, Francis Stone. Completed!
1. Chapter 1: Hostage

Dislcaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

_**Incredible**_

Set in the world of _The Incredibles_. Virgil is Lucius' son. The Bests and the Parrs make up a super hero crime-fighting team following the events of Syndrome. One day, Virgil discovers another super hiding amongst his high school peers, Francis Stone. Now the bad-tempered pyro has been forced out of hiding.

* * *

Okay, this is going to need a little backstory so before we get into the actual plot here is some character stuff that will make the plot easier to understand.

The Parrs: Bob, Helen, Violet, Dash, Jack-Jack (unchanged from the movies)

The Bests: Lucius, Virgil (mother deceased)

The Incredibles, Frozone, and Static live together in their headquarters, still living their alter ego lives while fighting crime in Metroville after the events of Syndrome. It's been about half a year. Supers have been accepted back into society and now take a lot of precautions in their crime fighting to avoid lawsuits.

Virgil and Violet attend the same high school while Dash is in middle school. Bob has quit his job and works at home, monitoring the city. Helen alternates between super hero duties and her motherly duties. Lucius continues working at his law firm in downtown Metroville and fighting crime in his off hours.

The children are trained on the weekend by their parents.

Francis Stone goes to high school with Virgil and Violet and is tough, street-smart kid with a bad temper who picks fights.

* * *

**Chapter One: Hostage**

Virgil Best woke one fine morning to the sounds of siblings Violet and Dash Parr arguing outside his door. Virgil groaned, rolled onto his stomach, and tried to go back to sleep. He still had another half hour before he had to get up and get ready for school. Just because those two rose with the sun didn't mean everyone else in the Sanctum had to.

Helen's motherly squawk joined her children's' bickering voices, clearly trying to separate them and quickly losing her temper. Virgil smiled into his pillow. Predictable Helen. He had known the Parr family his entire life and when Violet and Dash wanted to fight nothing could stop them, although following the whole Syndrome adventure the fights had gotten fewer and farther apart.

Virgil groaned again and sat up. He was wide-awake now. Might as well go shoo the Parrs away from his bedroom door. Virgil swung his legs over the side of the bed, pulled a pair of sweat pants on over his boxers, and walked to the door. He pulled it open, leveling a glare at the three Parrs on the other side.

Violet had Dash by the arm and her other hand was glowing with small circular forcefield. Helen had grabbed Violet's wrist and one of Dash's legs, who had clearly been speed-kicking his sister.

"Oh Virgil. I'm so sorry. Did we wake you?" Helen's annoyed look immediately evaporated into a look of motherly concern. Virgil almost laughed, then remembered he was supposed to be mad.

"Kinda, yeah." The three combatants separated themselves, looking sheepish. Virgil ran a hand through his disorderly dreads. "Look, I don't care if you guys wanna fight, but could you do it away from my room?"

"Of course. Kids apologize." Helen prodded Violet and Dash.

"Sorry for waking you Virgil." Violet said softly, flushing red with embarrassment, and then walked quickly away from the group.

"Yeah, sorry." Dash added reluctantly.

"Don't worry about it." Virgil said, stifling a yawn.

Helen looked very pleased. "Now that that's settled, you need to go get dressed." She looked pointedly at Dash, who was still clad in pajamas. "Breakfast is in twenty minutes and I expect you to be ready for school by then."

Dash nodded quickly and jetted off down the hall.

Virgil went back into his room and proceeded to get ready for the day. A typical morning in the Sanctum of the Super Squad.

* * *

"Morning Pops." Virgil sat at the table beside his father, Lucius.

"Morning Virgil." Lucius folded the section of the paper he was reading and smiled at his son. "Pancakes?"

"Yes, please. Bob, could you pass the bacon?"

Bob Parr looked up from the crossword and handed the platter across the table. Violet and Dash walked into the room, followed quickly by their mother carrying Jack-Jack. Everyone was sat at the table and had a very enjoyable breakfast. The adults were talked about the latest villains and how some supers were re-adjusting to the spotlight following the dismantling of the Superhero Protection Program. Violet and Virgil discussed the biology test they both had next week that was worth a quarter of their overall grade and Dash amused himself by playing with Jack-Jack until his mother scolded him.

"So, how's school been so far?" Lucius asked the two oldest children.

Virgil shrugged. The school year had just begun and things were pretty much the same at Metroville High School, even though he and Violet were both sophomores now. Dash, however, entering his first year at Junior High, leaped at the opportunity to explain how cool the classes were, how big the gym was, and how many more friends he had made.

Virgil thought about that. Dash made friends easily and usually Virgil did too, except he seemed to have gotten on the bad side of the school's most notorious bully, F-Stop. He couldn't think of anything he had done, but F-Stop just seemed hell bent on making his sophomore year miserable. In the two weeks since school had started F-Stop had shoved Virgil into lockers and down stairs more times than the teenaged Super could count. Even more annoying was the fact that F-Stop had a knack for knowing when teachers were around, so Virgil could never prove the bullying in front of authority figures. None of the other students would ever say anything either, nobody wanted to get on F-Stop's bad side. The dude was dangerous.

"What are you thinking about?" Bob asked, seeing a sullen look come over Virgil's face.

"Nothing." Virgil said quickly, staring at his plate. It was lucky no one at the table could read minds.

Violet was looking at him funny though. She might know, she did go to the same school after all. He would have to talk to her about keeping this quiet from the adults. He could take of himself if a fight ever broke out and the last thing he needed was for Mr. Incredible to come down to the school and harass F-Stop. That wouldn't do Virgil any favors. F-Stop wasn't doing anything illegal, he was just being annoying. Despite technically only having one biological parent, Bob and Helen treated Virgil like their own son and would do anything to make sure he was okay. Most of the time that was awesome, in this instance Virgil thought it might be a hindrance.

"You guys better get going or you'll be late." Helen observed, looking at her watch. The kids all got up, said goodbye to the adults, and headed for school.

* * *

"Hey Vi?" Virgil jogged after Violet after dropping Dash at the Junior High's front doors. "I guess you've probably noticed F-Stop's gunning for me."

Violet hugged her books closer to her chest. "I've noticed, kind of hard not to. He hasn't done anything yet has he?"

Virgil shook his head. "Nah, but I think we should probably keep it quiet, ok? I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"If worse comes to worse…"

"You'd use your powers?" Violet frowned.

Virgil thought about it. "If I had to I guess. I'd be careful to make it discreet. I don't want anyone to know I'm Static."

Violet didn't look too sure. "Just be careful."

Virgil nodded. They approached the high school; students were standing around outside the doors or in the parking lot, not in any hurry to head inside. The weather was still reminiscent of summer and very pleasant. Virgil and Violet split ways and went to go join their respective group of friends.

Within minutes the first warning bell rang and students began trickling inside for their first class of the day. Virgil sat down in homeroom, ignoring the glare he knew he was getting from F-Stop at the back of the room. Seriously, what was his problem?

The teacher called role and the PA system turned on, the principal making his announcements for the day. Nobody was really paying much attention and was talking with those sitting around them. That was when they heard the first gunshots.

Everybody sat up in their chairs, the teacher stood slowly, uncertain. The class had gone silent. A few more gunshots rang out and there was a scream from down the hall. F-Stop was the first to react. He ran to the door but before he could turn the knob somebody else shoved it open. It was a large, heavily bearded man, wearing all black and brandishing an assault rifle. He looked around the room, noticed F-stop right in front of him and grabbed the teen. In a flash the man smashed the butt of the rifle into F-Stop's face and the teen crumpled to the floor.

A girl started crying. The man smiled and surveyed the room again. "Up." He jerked his rifle.

They obeyed. Virgil clenched his fists. He knew he had to do something, without revealing his secret identity, but what?

"Good." The man grinned wider. "Do what I say and you won't end up like that kid." He nodded at F-Stop. "Follow me, you two take him." He pointed at two other boys and motioned at F-Stop again. They walked forward slowly, warily, and grabbed F-Stop, hauling him to his feet and slinging his arms around their shoulders. The class followed the invader out of the room and into the hall.

Up and down the corridor other classes were being led single-file by men in black towards the gym. Their class joined the crowds. Nobody spoke. It was eerily silent, the only sound the scuffling of shoes on the tile. Virgil looked for Violet and his other friends but didn't see them. Several students were crying. Nobody seemed injured, besides F-Stop. Maybe the shots had been warning shots to get their attention.

When they got to the gym the men had them stand in rows and then they surrounded the rows on all sides, rifles aimed at the students. The gym teacher was holding F-Stop up now and he seemed to be regaining consciousness. His face was a mask of blood, it was dripping from a deep laceration across his nose and staining his shirt red.

They stood like that for several minutes before one of the men, presumably the leader, held his hands up for their attention. "I am sure you are all wondering what exactly is going on here." Nobody spoke. He continued. "It's quite simple really. My men and I want control of the city. You are our hostages, our bargaining chip if you will. The police and the mayor are well aware of the situation. If they don't meet our demands, we will kill you. If they do, you are all free to go. Until that time, however, if you disobey us, you will be punished. If you try and escape, you will be shot. Cooperation is key, your life depends on it." The man smiled and a chill went up Virgil's spine. "Do not try and be the hero."

"How are you going to kill us?" Somebody in the back asked.

The leader indicated for his men to part. They revealed a small item covered with a cloth. The leader whipped the sheet off, showing a bomb to the student body. "We have an escape route some of my men and I will utilize, the rest of you and a few brave volunteers will be blown to bits."

The bomb itself was rather crude, but undoubtedly powerful. Sticks of dynamite were strung together and a fuse ran from the top of the explosives. There were frantic whispers among the captives.

Virgil stared at the bomb and then the invaders. There was nothing he could do at the present moment. He would have to wait and see how those outside the school responded to the situation. His father and Mr. and Mrs. Incredible would be on the scene soon. They would know what to do.

All they could do now was wait, so they did. As the minutes passed, eventually an hour, the students and teachers sat and began to talk quietly amongst themselves, still in orderly rows. Virgil located Violet on the other side of the gym and exchanged looks with her. He noticed F-Stop's face had stopped bleeding and he was scowling at the invaders with a look that did not go unnoticed by their captors. The bearded man who had hit him kept smiling at the injured boy. Virgil hoped F-Stop could keep his anger in check, which would be quite the feat. F-stop wasn't known for his patience or self-control.

The hour turned into several more. By this time the hostages were growing restless but fear kept them in place. Boredom and hunger had set in but still nothing had happened. Finally, a cell phone rang.

The leader's hand went to his belt and he pulled a phone out, flipping it open in a smooth motion. He put it to his ear. "Yes?"

He listened for a moment, frowning.

A frown wasn't good. Virgil locked eyes with, of all people, F-Stop. He looked just as worried. No one else seemed to realize what was happening.

"No." The leader slapped the phone shut and sighed. He looked to his men and nodded. They began to fan out. Then he stared at the crowd of students and teachers and shook his head. "You have only your very foolish government to blame. Goodbye."

He turned and walked from the room. One of the men pulled a lighter out and held it to the fuse. People were leaping to their feet, shouting, panicking. The invaders leveled their rifles at the crowd. The fuse began to burn.

Virgil leapt to his feet and with a flick of his wrist caused one of the rifles to jam by rearranging the metal parts within the gun, rendering the weapon useless. He quickly disabled several more rifles. Now the men were panicking along with the crowd. People were running for exits but the doors were locked.

Someone managed to bust through the lock on one of the doors and people began streaming through the only exit, but they weren't going to be quick enough. The invaders were still trying to force the hostages to stay in the gym and not enough people were getting out.

A man with a rifle guarded the bomb, clearly meant to die with the hostages. He shot at anyone who came within a few feet of the explosive. The fuse had almost burned down to the dynamite. There were only a few inches of fuse left. Virgil's eyes widened and he tried to push his way through the crowd, struggling to get to the bomb. He wasn't going to make it. Out of the corner of his eye he saw F-Stop surging through the crowd in the same direction, he threw his hand out towards the bomb.

Virgil closed his eyes and fell to the ground, preparing for the blast. It never came.

He opened his eyes and looked at the bomb. The fuse was out.

The guard looked confused and before he could react Mr. Incredible came charging through the wall and decimated the man with a clothesline. The guard lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious. Mr. Incredible went to work dismantling the bomb.

Virgil got to his feet and looked around. His father skated in through a high window, icing as many of the invaders as he could see whom Mrs. Incredible then tied up. Police swarmed into the room, guiding the hostages out. Virgil looked around and saw F-Stop, his hand still outstretched. A flicker of a flame danced on his palm before the older boy closed his fist and retreated into the crowd. Virgil blinked. F-Stop was…a super? No. No way.

But how else had the fuse gone out?

"Virgil! Come on!" Violet grabbed his arm and pulled Virgil away and into the stream of people hurrying from the building.

Once they were outside, the two teens had to duck news reporters and paramedics that had surrounded the school. Several teens had been injured and Virgil figured F-Stop would be one of them getting treatment. He wanted to talk to the bully. Virgil went from ambulance to ambulance but no F-Stop. He had disappeared.

Virgil was confused and curious. A hand landed on his shoulder and spun him around. Staring intently at him was his father, still in uniform. Frozone looked his son over from head to toe, worry etched on his face. "Are you okay?"

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Frozone nodded. "Just get Violet and head home. I'll meet you there." Virgil nodded again and his father reluctantly returned to his super hero duties.

Virgil found Violet and the two went home as instructed, questions still buzzing through his mind. The most pressing was, is F-Stop a super? Virgil wanted to think he had imagined the flame in F-Stop's hand, but he knew he'd only be lying to himself.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Ummm....yeah. So, not sure how people are going to feel about this. Also not very pleased with this first chapter, seems kind of stiff to me and I was really reluctant to write about schools and shooting. I am not making light of that. Please don't take offense. It's just...this is an idea I've had ever since I saw _The Incredibles_ for the first time six years ago. That's a long time to have a story in your head and I just wanted to get it out. It will get better as it goes along, I promise. I just have to get into the groove. It also gets more interesting and more in-depth than other stuff I've written. But I am not going to continue if people don't like it. So...

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	2. Chapter 2: Ambush

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles.

**Chapter Two: Ambush**

"You guys! Violet! Virgil!" Dash ran into the house and frantically sped from one room to the other looking for his sister and friend.

"We're in here." Violet stuck her head into the hall. Dash ran into the kitchen and tackled his sister around the legs, holding onto her tightly. "Are you guys okay? Everyone was talking about the attack and all I could think about was that we were fighting this morning and what if you'd gotten hurt? I would have felt so bad and I'm so glad you're okay!"

Violet hugged her little brother. "I'm fine, everybody's fine."

Virgil chuckled from where he was sitting at the table.

Dash ran over and hugged Virgil too. "That's a relief." The little boy jumped into the chair next to Virgil. "I ran all the way home."

"You did?" Violet asked, a frown on her face.

"I changed into uniform." Dash explained.

Violet's phone rang. She took it out of her bag and checked the screen. "Mom says she left Jack-Jack sleeping in his room. I should go check on him." She rose and left the kitchen.

Virgil picked up the remote and turned the small TV on the counter on, flipping to the news. All the channels were covering the attack on Metroville High School. He let out a sigh when it was confirmed there had been no fatalities and a number of the invaders had been taken into custody. The leader and his inner circle had escaped but were being tracked by the police. Virgil even smirked when he saw the bearded man who had smacked F-Stop being forced into a police cruiser.

Dash's mouth fell open at the coverage. "Whoa. I was scared before but this is kinda cool."

Virgil got up and got the two of them snacks. "Wouldn't have been cool if someone had gotten shot or that bomb had gone off."

Dash frowned and plunged the straw into his juice box. "No. But that didn't happen."

Virgil rolled his eyes, sipping at his own drink. "Barbeque or original?" He asked, holding up two bags of chips.

Dash grabbed at the Barbeque flavor and tore the bag open. "Were you scared?"

"Me? Nah." Dash's eye widened in awe. Virgil felt a little bad for lying but he wasn't going to admit he'd almost peed his pants to an eleven year old.

"Was that the last Barbeque?" Violet entered the kitchen, a sleepy Jack-Jack in her arms.

"Yeah. Want some?" Dash opened his mouth, revealing the grotesquely chewed up chips.

"You are such a little…argh." Violet set Jack-Jack in his high chair. "You are so immature." Dash just grinned and leaned back, upending the remnants of the bag into his mouth.

"Kids? Where are you?" Bob called as he walked into the house.

"Kitchen!" Dash yelled back.

"Thank goodness." Helen walked in first and pulled Violet into a hug and then embraced Virgil.

Bob held back in the doorway, a smile on his face. "You guys alright?"

"Yeah, we're okay." Violet said.

Helen scooped up Jack-Jack. "I swear, when that report came in my heart nearly stopped."

"Don't worry, we'll catch those creeps." Bob promised, throwing an arm around Violet and squeezing her in a half hug. She giggled and put her arms around her father.

"Where's my dad?" Virgil asked.

"He had to go back to the office. He left in the middle of a meeting. His client's probably pretty angry with him. He said he'd be home as soon as he cleared things up there." Helen explained.

"Oh, ok."

"Why?" Bob asked.

"I just wanted to talk to him about something." Virgil said, looking away.

Helen looked between Bob and Virgil. "Ok, Dash, how about you go get started on your homework." Dash groaned but slid off his chair and complied. "Violet, didn't you want to ask me about Homecoming dresses?"

Violet smiled delightedly. "Yeah! I have a catalog in my room. I was thinking something purple…" The teenager ran from the room to retrieve the magazine, Helen following after her. She looked pointedly at Bob and nodded at Virgil.

Bob rubbed the back of his neck. "Look V, I know I'm not your dad or anything but if you want to talk to me about whatever's bothering you, I'm always here to listen."

Virgil thought about it and then sat at the table. "Something kinda weird happened today. I'm just not sure what to think about it."

Bob sat opposite Virgil. "Weirder than being held hostage by a terrorist organization in your own gymnasium?"

Virgil smiled. "Well, no. But it has to do with that."

Bob made a 'go on' gesture.

Virgil sighed and just launched into his story. "There's this kid, F-Stop…"

"F-Stop?"

"Well his name's actually Francis but nobody calls him that. You'd probably wake up with a concussion in a dumpster somewhere."

"Ah."

"Yeah well, he's been on my case lately, not too sure why, but that's not the point. Today, when we were in the gym, after the guys lit the fuse and were leaving, everyone started panicking. I tried to get to the bomb but I couldn't break through the crowd. It was going to go off. I saw F-Stop sort of throw his hand out towards the bomb. The next thing I know, the fuse is out. I looked over at F-Stop and he had a little flame in his hand. It was only a split second and I might have been seeing things but I think F-Stop put the fuse out."

Bob frowned. "So, you think this F-Stop kid is a Super?"

He hesitated for moment, and then Virgil nodded. "It's the only thing I can think of. That bomb would've gone off. Somebody stopped it and I swear I saw fire in his hand."

Bob leaned back, his facial expression indicating deep thought. "I'll look into it. If there's another Super out there we don't know about, either he's not in the files or he's rogue. Either way, I'm gonna call Dicker."

"I don't know." Virgil stood. "I'd be careful about F-Stop. There's something weird about him."

Bob stood too and clapped a reassuring hand onto Virgil's shoulder. "Don't worry V. I know how to handle these things."

* * *

Stupid.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Francis slammed the front door shut and stalked into the living room. Stupid. How stupid could he be? Using his powers? That was such an amateur's move. So what if the bomb had gone off? He could've protected himself and not taken the risk. Sure some people might've gotten splattered but he would be safe.

He threw a punch at the wall, his fist sinking into the drywall. Francis stopped thinking the word stupid and started thinking the word ow. He pulled his hand out of the wall and shook it, blood streaming from his knuckles.

"Well fuck me." He growled.

He went to the bathroom and ran his hand under the sink, washing the blood away. Francis shook his head in frustration, still mentally berating himself. For the first time in five years he had used his powers in public. Who knew what the implications of this would be? Who knew who had seen him? And for what? To save a bunch of people who didn't even like him?

Francis looked up and grimaced at his reflection in the mirror. That fucker with a rifle had done a number to his face. There was a deep gash across his nose; dried blood was all over his cheeks and chin. How had he made it home without anyone screaming at the sight of him?

The area around the cut was already turning a deep blue. Francis found a washcloth and ran it under the warm water. He dabbed at the dried blood on his face, the water in the sink turning pink whenever he rinsed the cloth. Francis carefully wiped the skin around the gash clean and then began to rinse the cut out, hissing through his teeth in pain. Satisfied, Francis opened the medicine cabinet and found some bandages. First, he wrapped his hand and then he pinched the cut shut and applied a few bandages to hold it closed. He probably needed stitches but the last place Francis wanted to go was a hospital.

Francis inspected himself in the mirror. Better. He'd look like he just got his ass beat in a fight, especially as a technicolor black eye was forming, but whatever. Least he wasn't dead. The fucker could have just shot him.

Francis went back out into the apartment's main area and considered his options. The smartest thing would be to cut and run. Find a new city. The NSA was probably still looking for him. Could he take the risk of staying?

He was startled out of his thoughts by the vibration of his cell phone on the counter. Francis had left it at home that day. The red-haired teen grabbed the phone and blinked at the screen in surprise. He had twelve voice mails and thirty-four messages. "Well shit."

Francis flicked through the messages; they were all from guys in his crew. They were wondering where the hell he was, was he dead, was he going to call and let them know he wasn't dead, were they going to have to replace him, was he going to come get drunk with them if he weren't dead? Francis smirked, responded to only one (Danny, who would let everyone else know. If crews could have gossip whores than Danny was it) saying he was alive and he would meet them at the usual bar later.

Francis put his phone down and ran a hand through his spiked hair, letting out a tired sigh. Bottom line, he had no idea what he was going to do. He was pretty happy with his life here. He had complete freedom. It would suck to leave all that behind just because he was afraid someone had seen him use his powers in a crowded room full of screaming, panicking people. And he'd only used them for a second. Francis shrugged. What was he freaking out about? He was safe. No need to be paranoid.

* * *

Rick Dicker put the phone down and stared at his desktop for a moment. So, Bob had found Francis Stone. About time.

He opened his desk drawer and took out a thick folder. He opened it and examined the first page. A twelve-year-old red headed boy stared at him from a photo paper-clipped to a Missing Supers report.

Dicker picked the phone up again. "I'll be needing a car."

* * *

Francis looked himself over in the mirror one last time. The guys were gonna give him hell over the bruises and cuts but there wasn't much he could do about it. Besides, they made him look even more badass than usual. Francis pulled a sweatshirt out of his closet and slid into it. He looked out the window and noticed raindrops tapping against the panes. He frowned. Great, rain. He loved rain. Francis popped a baseball cap on backwards, grabbed his keys, phone, and wallet and left his apartment.

Francis bounded down the steps two at a time, feeling pretty good, his earlier anxiety forgotten. Yeah, it'd been pretty stupid to use his powers but it had also felt good. It had been a while since he'd even used his powers in private. It wasn't natural to keep that inside. Supers were meant to use their powers.

Francis pushed the door open and stepped outside. He frowned as he was pummeled by raindrops and ducked into the alley next to his building. If he took the alleys all the way to the bar, he could avoid the worst of the rain. Francis began walking down the dim alley, away from the streetlights and bustle of the main road. He had only gone a few steps when he felt like he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Francis stopped and looked warily over his shoulder. Nothing.

He shrugged and continued. Then he saw a very large man drop down from the fire escape and land directly in front of him. Big guys should not be that agile. Francis backed up and collided with another body behind him. Francis jumped forward and looked behind him. A much smaller, slimmer guy was behind him, blocking his escape. Francis clenched his fists ready to fight, then he noticed what the men were wearing. Supersuits.

Francis' mind went blank. "Oh shit."

The large man stepped forward and Francis got a better glimpse of him. Mr. Incredible. Francis' eyes widened and he felt like his legs were going to buckle under him. They would send Mr. Incredible after him.

"Francis Stone I presume?" Mr. Incredible asked, not unkindly but in a manner that suggested Francis' response was unnecessary. So he stayed silent.

"Fro?"

Francis felt something very cold behind him and before he could react, his arms were frozen to his side. He struggled for a moment, panic taking over. No, no. He didn't want to go back. Absurdly, he didn't think of lighting up. He was so used to suppressing his powers it wasn't a natural instinct anymore. Mr. Incredible reached forward and took his cap off. The superhero smiled at the struggling teen. "Somebody's been looking for you."

* * *

By the time Francis had been taken back to the Sanctum he was thoroughly, and purposefully, drenched by the rain. Now he couldn't light up even if he wanted to. Not only that but he had been blindfolded and had no idea where he was.

After all, the Sanctum was secret. Precautions had to be taken. At least Frozone had been apologetic when he tied the blindfold over Francis' eyes.

Francis was just grateful to be inside and out of the rain. When Frozone untied the blindfold, Francis had stopped struggling and stood, shoulders slumped, between Mr. Incredible and Frozone. He looked around quickly, trying to figure out where he had been taken. It was underground; there was no natural light. White tiling coated the walls and floor. There was a lot of machinery and computers lining the walls and a giant television screen in the center of the room surrounded by smaller consoles. If he had to guess, Francis would say he was in a Super's headquarters.

Mrs. Incredible sat at one of the consoles and was turned half in her seat to look at him. Francis gaped at the technology. He had never seen anything like this.

He felt the ice around him melt away and he realized Frozone was letting him loose. He stepped away from the heroes and rubbed his arms to get the feeling back in them.

"Thanks guys. You've done a real favor for the NSA."

Francis' heart dropped. He knew that voice. He turned his head slowly and saw Rick Dicker standing along the wall. His mouth dropped open.

"No problem." Mr. incredible said.

"You've been a real pain for the government these last five years Stone." Dicker walked forward, frowning at Francis. "Do you have any idea how many funds were put into tracking you down?"

"Could've stopped looking." Francis found his voice. "I wouldn't have minded."

Dicker's frown deepened. "What happened to your face?"

"Got pistol whipped."

Dicker opened his mouth to say something else but before he could respond, Mrs. Incredible spoke up. "Rick, do you mind filling us in on what exactly is going on?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind knowing who this kid is." Frozone added.

Rick nodded. "Of course, you deserve to know after finding him." He walked over to the console where Mrs. Incredible was sitting and pulled up the NSA database. He typed in Francis' name and a photo along with several files was displayed on the screen. Francis grimaced at the photo of his twelve year old self. "This is Francis Stone. He was a ward of the state and living at a government relocation center when he managed to run away at the age of twelve. Imagine the fuss that made, an underage Super with dangerous powers running amok at the height of the Superhero Protection Program. It was made top priority to track him down."

"Who are his parents?" Mr. Incredible asked, knowing Super genes were hereditary.

"His mother was Blazestone." Dicker said.

"Blazestone? But…how…how old are you?" Frozone spluttered.

"Relax, I'm not your kid." Francis scoffed, a scowl on his face. Shut up Dicker, shut up.

"His father was Downburst." Dicker supplied.

Mr. Incredible burst into laughter beside Francis. "Downburst? And Blazestone?"

Francis shot him a withering glare.

Dicker smirked. "Yes well, Francis has attributes of both his parents. His anger from his father and his powers from his mother."

"Yeah?" Mr. Incredible looked at Francis with interest. "Let's see Hothead."

Francis ignored him and focused on Dicker. "So now what?"

"Now you're coming back to the government center with me."

"What? No!" Francis backed away, Mr. Incredible reached out with a restraining hand. "No fucking way! I'm not going back!"

Dicker shook his head. "You don't have a choice. You don't know how to use your powers properly; you're a danger to yourself and society. Not to mention you're a minor and a ward of the state."

"No!" Francis struggled in Mr. Incredible's grasp.

"Take it easy kid." Frozone said soothingly. Francis glared at him. He kicked Mr. Incredible hard enough for the superhero to let go and the teen jumped back, clenching his fists. Coils of flame leapt up his arms and intertwined around his chest like snakes. Francis' normally emerald green eyes became fiery red.

The adults in the room stared at him.

"Whoa." Mr. Incredible muttered.

"Be reasonable Francis." Dicker tried to placate the frantic teen. Francis shook his head, backing away.

Frozone raised his hand, prepared to ice the pyro.

"Wait, just everybody wait. Calm down." Mrs. Incredible got to her feet and walked in between Dicker and Francis. "There's another option."

"There is?" Francis asked, his eyes going back to normal.

Mrs. Incredible looked at Dicker. "Why doesn't Francis stay here with us?"

"What?" Dicker asked.

"Yeah, what?" Mr. Incredible echoed.

Mrs. Incredible walked over to Francis and put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to power down. The flames evaporated. "He clearly doesn't want to go to a government center. Why not let him stay here. He can continue going to school and we can train him. " Mrs. Incredible smiled at Francis. "Would that be better?"

Francis didn't answer, he just looked confused.

Dicker shrugged. "So long as he is getting the training and education he needs and we know exactly where he is, I don't see the problem. I would require weekly reports of course."

"Of course." Mrs. Incredible agreed.

"Wait, wait." Francis ducked away from Mrs. Incredible's hand. "Are you saying it's a choice between going to the government center or staying here with you?"

"It's not a choice anymore." Dicker said with a small smile. "You're staying here."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Oh man, this chapter was soooooo much easier to write. I think the problem with the first chapter was that I wasn't writing from Francis' point of view. Which is odd for me. That must have been it. I feel a lot better about this chapter. And guys? Thanks so much for responding! Keep it up, I love getting reviews. I was going to wait a few more days to update but as a special treat on this Gleektacular Tuesday, here ya go. Now go watch Glee.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	3. Chapter 3: Rules

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Three: Rules**

Mr. Incredible led Francis, very forcefully, by the arm to a room off the control room while Frozone showed Dicker out. Mrs. Incredible followed after with a smile. They stopped outside a room with a steel door. Mrs. Incredible slid her glove off and pressed her thumb to a scanner. The scanner read her thumbprint and the door slid open. Inside was a bed with a steel frame and white blankets folded neatly on the bare mattress.

"Is this a cell?" Francis asked after a moment.

"Well, yes. But it's only temporary. Don't worry, we'll find you a real bedroom upstairs soon." Mrs. Incredible said in a placating tone.

Mr. Incredible directed Francis into the room. The teen stood in the middle of the holding cell with disbelief written across his face. He turned back to the superhero couple. "So in the meantime you're gonna lock me up?"

Mr. Incredible shrugged. "Can you blame us? We don't know anything about you. It would be naïve of us to let you wander around unchecked."

"Yeah, but…a cell?"

"Just for a little." Mrs. Incredible reminded him. "I'll be back in the morning and we can talk about the new arrangement over breakfast."

"Wait a minute…" Francis began. The door slid shut before he could finish. He stared at the locked door for a moment and then let out a whine worthy of a three year old. "This sucks."

Francis looked at the bed and decided against making it. Way too much effort. He grabbed the single pillow off the stack of sheets and blankets and tossed it to the head of the bed. After that he shoved everything but the outer blanket off the bed. Francis peeled off his damp t-shirt and stripped down to his boxers, which would have to do as pajamas.

He was tired, damp, angry, and his head was pounding painfully. All Francis wanted to do at that moment was crawl under the blanket and go to sleep. So he did.

* * *

School was cancelled the next day, unsurprisingly. There were rumors that Metroville High would be closed indefinitely following the hostage incident. Nobody was complaining, especially not Virgil. He got to sleep in to a glorious 11:30 on a Wednesday morning. He never got to sleep in. No, really. On the weekends and during the summer the kids of the Sanctum had Super training during the morning. Virgil could get used to this.

He rolled out of bed around noon, got dressed, and wandered towards the kitchen with a sleepy smile on his face.

He found his dad, Bob, Violet, Dash, and Jack-Jack seated at the table. His dad, Bob, and Violet looked serious, Dash looked confused, and Jack-Jack's expression was hard to read as the baby was smeared with some sort of sauce. "Whoa, what's going on?" Virgil sank into a chair.

"That was a great call on the Stone kid Virgil." Bob smiled at him.

Violet started. "You recognized F-Stop as a Super?"

"That's enough of that F-Stop, his name is Francis. I will not be encouraging gang mentality in this house." Bob said firmly. Violet rolled her eyes.

Virgil was confused. "Well, yeah. What has that got to do with anything?"

"As I was explaining to Vi and Dash," Bob gestured around the table. "Your dad and I went after Stone last night after you all went to sleep. The kid was a rogue. He ran away from a government center when he was twelve."

Lucius took a sip of coffee from his mug, "Apparently he's cost the NSA nearly a half a million in search expenses."

Virgil blinked at the adults for a moment before shaking his head in wonderment. "Wow, I had no idea."

"So what are his powers?" Dash asked.

"He's a pyrotech." Bob was half-filling in a crossword puzzle in the newspaper while he was explaining the situation to the kids.

"I knew it!" Virgil exclaimed.

"How?" Violet asked.

"He's the one who put out the fuse yesterday." Virgil explained succinctly.

"Oh."

"That is so cool." Dash squirmed with excitement.

Virgil looked around, noticing Helen's absence for the first time. "Hey, where's Helen?"

Bob rubbed the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous. "There's something else I have to tell you about Stone."

"What?" Violet asked.

At that moment Helen walked into the kitchen, dragging a sullen Francis in behind her.

"He's…uh…living with us."

Francis would have laughed at the expression on Virgil and Violet's faces if he weren't royally pissed off at everything.

Helen gently pushed him into a chair at the table and then walked over to Jack-Jack, cooing at the baby as only a mother could.

Francis glared at the three kids openly gaping at him. He considered the fact that Virgil Best was Static and that weird Violet chick was Incredi-Girl. He wasn't really all that surprised. He was surprised Mr. and Mrs. Incredible, scratch that, Parr, would let him in on their secret identities so fast. There was no reason for them to trust him like that.

"Um…what?" Virgil managed to stutter out after a few minutes of complete silence.

"Francis will be staying with us for the foreseeable future." Helen explained calmly, picking up the spoon and jar of baby food to resume feeding Jack-Jack.

Francis grimaced at his given name.

"This is so not okay." Violet said angrily.

"Yeah, what she said." Virgil agreed.

Dash continued gaping in awe at the older super. Francis raised an eyebrow at the boy and a grin exploded onto Dash's face. "Can you turn into fire? Jack-Jack can. Sometimes."

Francis' other eyebrow rose. "What's Jack-Jack?"

"My little brother." Dash pointed at the baby.

"Ah."

Virgil stood, hands clenched. "Do you have any idea who he is?" He gestured angrily at Francis. "What he does? He is in a gang, no, he leads a gang. He terrorizes people. You are voluntarily inviting him to live with us? Are you insane?"

"Are you hungry?" Helen asked Francis.

The pyro shook his head slowly.

"Are you listening to me?" Virgil yelled.

Bob pounded his fist on the table to gather attention. Virgil sank back into his seat and all eyes turned to the Parr patriarch. "Of course. We know exactly what Stone's been up to in the last five years. He's got a rap sheet and a half testifying to his character. That's why there are going to be rules."

Francis sat up. What?

Bob leaned forward, staring at Francis. "Rule number one, you cannot use your powers without my own, my wife's, or Lucius' authorization."

"What?" Francis gripped the table to prevent himself from rising to his feet in anger. It was one thing to stop yourself from using your powers but to actually be forbidden from using them? That was crossing a line.

"You heard me Hothead."

"Or what?"

"We'll think of a suitably horrible punishment."

"You can't do that." Francis ground out.

Bob smirked in way that implied that yes, yes he could.

"Rule number two, you lay a hand on anybody in this house, or anywhere outside for that matter, and you are outta here." Lucius said.

Francis looked from Super to Super, disbelief on his face.

"Rule number three, you will receive training from Bob on the weekends and after school. Dicker mentioned you never received comprehensive training for your powers. That starts tomorrow." Helen said.

Francis just shook his head. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Dash stared at Francis for a second. "You swore!" He looked at his mom. "Mom! He swore!"

Helen frowned. "Rule number four, no obscenities in this house."

Francis groaned and sank in his chair. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Bob folded the newspaper and pushed it aside. "No more fraternizing with your former gang buddies."

Francis bolted upright in his seat. "You can't do that!" Yeah, what he and his friends considered hobbies would also classify as crime, but they were his friends.

"There will be no more criminal behavior from you or anyone you choose to associate with. If I hear anything to the contrary, well, that's a one-way ticket to Dicker and a room in a government center." Bob said calmly.

Virgil and Violet looked close to hysterics. The look of disbelief and anger on Francis' face was too much for them. It was about time that hood got what was coming to him.

The kitchen was uncomfortably silent for the next couple of minutes. Francis was clenching the sides of his chair so hard he was surprised the wood wasn't splintering. He couldn't ever remember being this angry. The silence was broken by the ringing of the cell phone he had forgotten was in his pocket.

Francis started and pulled the phone out. Lucius reached over and snatched the phone from his hand. Before Francis could protest the cell was in Bob's possession. Bob looked at the screen. "Danny T?"

"Banger." Virgil supplied happily.

Bob ignored the call and flipped the phone open, flicking quickly to the address book.

"Carlos?"

"Banger."

"Evan?"

"Banger."

"Monster?"

"Banger."

"Maria?"

"Skank."

The last was provided by Violet and earned her a disapproving look from her mother.

"Roddy G?"

"Banger."

Bob had heard enough. He crushed the phone in one hand.

Francis glared at Virgil. "I remembered why I hate you."

Virgil returned the look and added a sneer. "What are you gonna do about it Hothead?"

Lucius put a warning hand on his son's arm. "Now, now boys." He looked at Francis. "Remember the no-contact rule. You have to control your temper."

"Aw shut up." Francis growled while rolling his eyes.

"His father's son." Lucius muttered.

"Fuck you!" Francis stood angrily.

"No swearing!" Dash piped up. Jack-Jack started to whimper.

"I don't have to remember shit. I punched your baby boy's face in last week. He remembers that well enough." Francis smirked tauntingly.

Virgil shot to his feet, sparks leaping in his fist.

Violet pushed a force field between the two boys as Lucius restrained his son and Bob restrained Francis. Helen slid Jack-Jack's high chair away from the table and Dash jumped down from his seat, ready for whatever was going to happen.

Bob grabbed Francis by his collar and pinned the teen against the wall. "Don't you ever threaten my family or swear in front of my kids like that again or I will put you through this wall."

Francis stared stonily back at Bob. "Fuck you."

"That's it."

Bob pulled Francis towards the doorway. "Call Dicker Helen, we cannot have this in our house."

Francis struggled in Bob's grip but the other Super was too strong. His thoughts raced wildly and frantically. They were going to lock him up in that cell until Dicker got there and then he was going to be locked away in that center for god knows how long. No. He couldn't deal with that. Anything else. "No! I'm sorry, please."

"Bob, don't be too hasty." Lucius tried to reason with his best friend.

Bob looked at Francis. He hadn't realized he had hoisted the boy off his feet. He put Francis back on the ground. "Say it again."

Francis swallowed nervously. "I'm sorry, ok? I'm sorry. Don't…just don't call Dicker."

"Bob…" Helen began.

Her husband cut her off. "I can't say I agree with this because I don't. Fro, are you okay with this kid staying here? He assaulted your son."

Lucius looked between Virgil and Francis. "I think we should give him a chance."

"Virgil?" Bob looked at the teen.

Virgil glared at Francis, and then he saw something in the other boy's eyes. Fear. Francis was actually afraid of the government center. He shrugged noncommittally.

Bob nodded. "Just give the word and he's out of here." He looked around the table. "That applies to everyone. Anybody have a complaint about his behavior," Bob shook Francis for emphasis, "and this experiment is over." He stared at Francis. "I will not put my family in danger for some delinquent rogue off the streets. Do you understand?"

Francis nodded.

Bob released him and Francis sank back against the wall, head bowed.

Helen stood and walked over to her husband, shooing him back to the table. She looked at Francis. "Well, first things first. We have to go get your things. You can't go walking around in the same t-shirt and jeans forever."

Francis looked blearily up at the Helen and nodded listlessly.

* * *

"You live here?" Helen asked, looking up at the bleak and dilapidated apartment building.

Francis nodded, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the pavement. He had yet to look anybody in the face since the near throw down this morning.

Helen and Bob were standing on either side of the teen. Lucius had gone to work late and Violet and Virgil were babysitting.

"Keys?" Bob asked.

"You took 'em." Francis reminded him.

"Oh yeah." Bob rummaged through the duffel bag he had brought along for the items he had confiscated off Francis this morning. He found the keys and bounded up the steps to the entrance.

Helen looked around at the neighborhood. It was about as dangerous as they come. This was a neighborhood were the gangs had more power than the police. The streets were littered with garbage and the buildings were in varying states of disrepair. The few people who were out sitting on the stoops regarded the three with wary expressions.

"Do you live on your own?" She asked Francis as they walked up the steps after her husband.

Francis nodded.

"How do you afford it?"

"Steal stuff."

Bob shot the pyro a look over his shoulder.

Francis glanced up for the first time. "What? You want me to lie now?"

Bob sighed and wrenched the door open. He moved aside to let Francis lead the way. There was caution tape around the elevator and Francis didn't even hesitate to walk over to the door that led to the stairs.

When they got to his door, Francis held his hand out for the keys. Bob dropped them into his palm. Francis unlocked the door and shoved it open with his shoulder.

Helen took charge from there. She had Francis show her his bedroom and started folding the clothes in his closet, laying them out in piles on his unmade bed. T-shirts, pants, sweatshirts…everything had their own pile. When she started rummaging through his drawers Francis flushed a deep red and snatched a pair of his boxers out of her hands. "I can do that."

"Suit yourself. Keep things neat. You don't want them to wrinkle." Helen reminded him. Francis unzipped the duffel and started packing his clothes. He could hear Bob opening drawers in the kitchen and living room.

Helen cleared her throat. Francis looked over his shoulder. She had a girl's panties held between two fingers. She was giving him a pointed, disapproving look. Francis felt his face flush the color of his hair again.

"Rule number eight. No girls at the house." Helen dropped the panties in the waste paper basket. Francis nodded.

"What else do you want to take?" Helen asked, looking around the room. It was surprisingly bare. There were a few posters on the wall, mostly of cars and motorcycles. There were no books or other personal possessions scattered around.

Francis shrugged. "Don't have a lot of stuff." It was true. All of his clothes fit comfortably in the duffle.

Helen nodded and motioned for him to walk out ahead of her. Francis slung the duffle over his shoulder and obeyed.

Laid out on the table were various objects Bob had found in his search. A gun, a switchblade, some porno magazines, and other items Francis would have preferred were not exhibited. Bob took the gun and blade and bent them in two, rendering them useless. He scooped all the items into a garbage bag and tied it shut.

Helen wrote a short note explaining that Francis was changing residences and slipped it, along with the keys, under the door of the superintendent. Bob gave the trash bag to Francis and made the teen throw it in the dumpster on their way out.

* * *

Francis threw the duffle down on the bed, back in his cell. The door was shut, which meant it was locked. Helen had promised to be back in a few hours for dinner and that he should rest and unpack.

Yeah right.

Francis kicked the bed. He threw the pillow against the wall, just to throw something. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. This wasn't fair. At all. He liked his life. He liked hanging out with his friends and occasionally committing some petty felonies. What was so wrong with that? Now he was stuck in this house with the biggest group of do-gooders in the city and if he so much as put his big-toe over the line he was going to be shipped off to Dicker and that claustrophobic hell-hole of a prison the government liked to call a relocation center.

Francis scoffed. Relocating to where exactly? He knew before his mom had died the government had been in the process of finding the Stones a permanent residence in accordance with the Superhero Protection Program. Then his mom had bit it and it was like Francis got caught in limbo. Nothing happened. Nothing was going to happen. They were probably just going to keep him in that center until he turned eighteen and then highly monitor the rest of his life. Francis wasn't about to let that happen.

So he'd left.

Apparently they hadn't liked that so much.

And now, five years later, he was right back where he started. Perfect. Francis growled in anger and stepped forward angrily. He didn't notice the pillow he had tossed earlier. Francis slipped on the pillowcase, which slid easily on the tile floor, and went crashing head first into the metal frame of the bed.

Immediately he put a hand to the bandage over his nose. His fingers came away covered in blood. He groaned. Great. He had re-opened the wound. Francis made it to all fours, blood dripping down his face and off his chin, creating a small pool on the tile. Francis scooted backwards and leaned against the wall, tilting his head up. He hoped dinner was soon.

* * *

"Francis? Dinner's in ten minutes and I thought you might like to wash up…" Helen opened the door and stopped mid-sentence. "Oh."

"I fell." Francis supplied. He was embarrassed but had a raging headache and really wanted an aspirin.

Helen looked at the boy. There was blood on his face and on the floor. He didn't look like he was in very much pain; in fact he looked perfectly calm. "C'mon."

* * *

"Whoa. What happened to you?" Violet asked as her mother and Francis walked into the kitchen.

"An accident." Helen explained quickly. "Lucius, would you drive him over to Doc Sunbright? I think he needs stitches."

Lucius nodded and rose. Violet handed Francis a wad of paper towels and he nodded his thanks, pressing the wad to the bridge of his nose. "Let's go kid." Lucius put one hand on Francis' shoulder and steered the teen from the kitchen.

* * *

The car ride was silent. Francis kept his head back and his eyes were closed. The paper towels were stained crimson in a matter of moments. Lucius looked at Francis out of the corner of his eye. "What happened?"

"Slipped, hit the bed." Francis said reluctantly. It was ridiculous and was something that could only happen to him. He was surprisingly accident-prone.

Lucius smothered his chuckle. "Does it hurt?"

Francis shook his head lethargically. "Got a headache though."

Lucius reached over and popped the glove compartment, pulling out a little bottle of pain relievers. "Here."

"Thanks." Francis popped the top and swallowed two.

There was silence again, a little more comfortable than before. Lucius drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He glanced over at Francis again. "Listen, your mom…"

"I know you dated her, it's cool." Francis said quickly, eyes closed.

Lucius stared straight ahead. "Well, yeah. I just want you to know that I cared about her a lot. I didn't know she had passed."

Francis didn't say anything.

"You look a lot like her you know." Lucius added.

Francis shrugged. "Dunno, I don't really remember her."

"How old were you?"

"Six."

Silence again.

"You can ask." Francis said, opening his eyes and grinning lazily at Lucius. "I know you want to."

"Ask what?" Lucius feigned confusion.

"How she died."

Lucius glanced at Francis and then quickly returned his gaze to the road. "I'm curious but I'm not going to ask."

"Syndrome."

"What!" Lucius almost slammed on the brakes in surprise.

Francis nodded. "Yeah, apparently she was one of the first to go."

Lucius shook his head. "Unbelievable." He pictured Blazestone, as he had known her. The woman he saw was the farthest thing from a mother and he certainly couldn't see her succumbing to Syndrome and his omnidroids.

Lucius opened his mouth to ask another question and promptly thought better of it.

Francis was looking at him oddly. Under the blood there was no expression on the teen's face. "My Dad?"

Lucius thought it was eerie how Francis could read him so well. Maybe he was more like his mother than he thought.

"Same."

Lucius clenched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white and shook his head again, at a complete loss for words. Syndrome had orphaned Francis and that son of a bitch didn't know it, wouldn't ever know it now that he was dead. The sad thing was; if Syndrome had known, he probably would have relished it. Would have made a point out of it.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Francis said gruffly. "Didn't know him and don't remember her. It doesn't make a difference." He turned away from Lucius and looked out the window at the city lights. His head was hurting. He popped another couple of aspirin and frowned into the dark.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Whooo, you didn't see that coming huh? Maybe you did. I dunno. Let's take a look at my extremely convoluted time line shall we?

Superhero Protection Program Initiated / Parr wedding / Francis is born

15 year period

Syndrome

6 month period

Present

Virgil and Violet are fifteen years old. Francis is sixteen. Dash is eleven.

Let's say that Buddy was fifteen when he tried to be Incredi-Boy and messed that whole Bomb Voyage thing up. Buddy started the Omnidroid program when he was twenty. He was thirty when he died. That gives him a ten year period to develop the omnidroids. If Blazestone was among the first Supers to die, then she would have died when Buddy was twenty and Francis was five/six. I imagine they listed Blazestone as missing and then finally classified her as dead over a period of time. According to wikipedia, Downburst was in the second group of Supers to die, so let's say when Francis was seven/eight.

Is this making sense?

Anyhoo. Backstory time. Blazestone never told Downburst she was pregnant because frankly they were just having a fling. Poor Francis, he was a mistake. Before Downburst could find out the Superhero Protection Program was started and he was given a new identity and location, away from Blazestone and the child he didn't know she was carrying. So Francis never knew Downburst but knows who he is. In case you were confused.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	4. Chapter 4: Adjustment

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Four: Adjustment**

Early the next day Francis got his own, real room. One that didn't lock automatically when the door shut. Of course, Bob put a lock on the door anyway, just in case. It was a guest room that Helen had cleared some unpacked boxes out of. There was a bed, a closet, and a dresser. Francis wrinkled his nose at the pastel green bed coverers but overall, a vast improvement over the basement cell.

Francis threw the duffel with his stuff in it down on the bed and started unpacking. It was while he was unpacking that he realized he really didn't have many things. His clothes fit in the dresser with room left over. The closet stood bare. He had nothing left to unpack. It was a little depressing actually. At least he had been living in his old apartment for a few years and it had that lived-in feel to it. Not to mention guys from his crew were constantly leaving stuff there and Francis had accumulated some odds and ends over the years that hadn't been to important enough to take, although he missed them now. His apartment had never felt as empty as this room. Francis flopped down on the bed. At least the mattress was comfortable, and he was actually getting natural sunlight now. Things could be worse.

Helen knocked on his open door, peering into the room. Francis raised his head to look at her.

"So? What do you think?" She gestured around the room.

Francis shrugged one shoulder. "S'okay."

"All unpacked?"

Francis nodded.

"Oh." Helen noticed the empty closet. "Huh."

"What?" Francis sat up on his elbows.

Helen smiled. "Nothing. Breakfast's in a few minutes." She ducked out of the room.

Francis took that as his cue to wash up and head to the kitchen.

* * *

"Nice face." Virgil commented when Francis walked into the kitchen, taking in the dark, ugly bruise that had spread over Francis' nose and cheeks. Doc Sunbright, the only doctor qualified to treat Supers, had stitched the wound and taped a bandage over it.

"Back at you." Francis slid into the seat farthest away from Virgil, staring sullenly at the table.

Helen and Bob were laying various breakfast dishes down on the table. Lucius ducked into the kitchen wearing a suit, poured himself a cup of coffee, half-hugged his son, and then darted away, clearly late for work. Violet walked in carrying Jack-Jack and set the baby in his high chair, which happened to be next to Francis. The teenaged girl looked at Francis' face and winced. "Ouch."

"Yeah, I get it. I look like shit." Francis mumbled.

Bob smacked the back of the pyro's head as he walked past. "No swearing."

Dash sped into the kitchen and hopped into a chair. "Did you make pancakes Mom?"

"Sure did sweetie." Helen put a plate in front of her son and sat down. "No school again?"

Virgil shook his head. "Nope. People are saying the school's going to stay closed. The principal got fired and the police are still combing the area."

Violet nodded her agreement. "Yeah, Jenna and Sam transferred schools. I heard a lot of kids are looking to transfer."

"Well, I think that's ridiculous. A perfectly good school is just going to sit around empty?" Bob voiced his opinion.

"People don't feel safe there anymore. It's natural to seek alternatives." Helen countered.

Francis took advantage of the debate to pour himself a cup of coffee. The less attention on him, the better.

Dash frowned and picked at his food. "It's not fair. Vi and Virg don't have to go to school anymore but I do."

Bob put a hand on Dash's shoulders and smiled. "Terrorists didn't raid your school son."

Dash's frown deepened. "It's still not fair."

"I am enjoying sleeping in." Virgil said with a grin.

"Don't play with your food." Helen scolded Dash. "Finish up and hurry or you'll miss the bus."

Dash pushed himself away from the table. "Aw, can't I run? I promise to be careful."

Both Helen and Bob shook their heads simultaneously. They were both far more liberal about the children using their powers ever since Syndrome but neither was prepared to take unnecessary risks concerning their secret identities.

"Aw." Dash whined and got down from the table with a petulant frown.

"Dishes." Helen reminded him.

Dash took his plate to the sink and went to get his backpack before leaving for school.

Francis sipped at his coffee, watching the family. Since he'd been at the Sanctum this was the longest a group meeting had gone without yelling.

"So what your plans for today?" Bob asked the table.

"Mom and me are going shopping for Homecoming dresses." Violet said excitedly.

Virgil looked at Bob. "I was going to ask if I could have the Loft for a few hours. I want to work on some flight aerials."

Bob nodded. "No problem V." Then he directed his steely blue gaze at Francis. "Let me go ahead and tell you your plans for shall I? Training. All day."

Francis grinned sarcastically. "Sounds like fun."

"Don't be a smart ass." Bob responded.

"No swearing." Francis reminded him.

The coffee mug in Bob's grasp cracked.

Helen put a restraining hand on her husband' arm. "Actually Bob I was thinking we could delay the start of Francis' training until tomorrow."

Bob looked at his wife. "Why?"

"He's going to come shopping with me and Vi."

"Huh?" Francis looked up.

"What? Mom, why?" Violet asked in dismay.

Helen looked across the table at Francis. "I've seen your clothes. Your pants are all two sizes too big and your shirts are two sizes too small. We're going to get you some clothes that actually fit you."

"Not with my money." Bob said.

Helen rolled her eyes. "I was on the phone with Rick this morning and he said that the NSA will assume the costs of Francis' living."

Francis raised one of his eyebrows. "You're getting paid to keep me here?"

"I wouldn't put it that way." Helen said off-handedly.

"Good. Should get something for putting up with him." Virgil muttered. Francis glared at the other boy.

"It's settled." Helen announced. "You're coming with us."

Violet was clearly unhappy at the last-minute addition to their shopping trip. She frowned at Francis. "We leave at eleven. Don't be late."

Virgil smirked at Francis. "Have fun."

* * *

Francis trudged along behind Helen and Violet with his head down, not bothering to hide his discomfort. The girls had bobbed from store to store looking at dresses and had yet to find the right one. They had apparently selected a lot of 'Maybes' that they could come back to if they didn't find 'The One.' Girls were so weird. If it fit, get it. Francis rolled his eyes as Violet squealed at a window display and darted into the store at a speed her brother would have been proud of. Helen looked over her shoulder to make sure Francis was still following them before walking in after her daughter.

He was, unhappily. The pyro ducked into the store, winced at the loud music vibrating from speakers along the walls and slunk to a corner where no one would bother him. The only reason he hadn't ditched this little experiment was because Bob had shot him a look before they had left. A look that clearly said, fuck this up and you will wish I had called Dicker. Francis had no doubt that the Parr patriarch would follow up on that threat. It was better to just duck his head and do as he was told for the moment.

As weird and awkward as it was living at the Sanctum with one of his mom's ex-boyfriends, his douche son, and the largest family of holier-than-thou do-gooders on the east coast, it was still better than a government center. Francis shuddered a little at the memory. He hadn't been mistreated in his youth, not really. People just acted like he didn't exist, and that had pissed him off. In fact, most people seemed to treat him with a bit of disdain or disgust. He was never given training for his powers and had been left to figure out most of his skills by himself in secret. They educated him, but sporadically. Francis studied the Civil War five times and never got past the Great Depression. He had the multiplication table memorized but couldn't for the life of him do division. That was one reason why he had re-enrolled himself in school after running away and establishing a residence for himself. Francis felt like he was missing a lot, and he was. Regular schooling helped fill those gaps.

Besides how people treated him, Francis had been lonely. Very lonely. There were no other kids in the center and the Supers who resided there were only passing through on their way to their new lives. Francis was rarely allowed outside and he spent his formative years under fluorescent lighting. Not to mention the strict rules and schedules he had to abide by. Francis hated all of it. Living at the Sanctum was definitely a step up. He would do whatever it took to stay there.

"Francis! Come here!" Helen called from across the store.

Francis' head jerked up when he heard his name. He had gotten lost in his thoughts. Helen was standing outside a dressing room, waving him over.

Francis slouched over to Helen. "What?"

She slapped his shoulder lightly. "Perk up. After we find Vi a dress we're finding you some nice, new clothes."

Francis looked down at what he was wearing. A sweatshirt over a wife beater and loosely buckled jeans with the bottoms cuffed around worn Converse sneakers. "What's wrong with my clothes? I like them."

Helen smiled softly. "Well, yes. They're perfectly good clothes but it doesn't hurt t o have a variety. I didn't see a single collared shirt while you were packing."

Francis shrugged. That's because he didn't have one.

The door to the dressing room cracked open and Violet stuck her head out. "Mom?"

"Yes honey?" Helen turned to look. She put her hands on her hips. "Well, come on out."

Violet looked at Francis and flushed. "I don't know Mom."

Helen looked from Violet to Francis and back again. "You're going to wear this dress to a dance, which means there will be boys there. If you're embarrassed to wear that dress in front of Francis than it's not the right dress."

Violet quickly shook her head. "No! This is my favorite one!"

"Well then, come out." Helen said.

Violet came out slowly, her hands folded behind her back self-consciously. She looked at the floor and then shyly up at her mother. It was a purple spaghetti strap dress with a black trim. It was form fitting around the top and then flowed more freely by her feet.

Helen clapped her hands to her mouth. "Oh! You're so beautiful. My little baby…"

Violet rolled her eye. "Mom." Then she looked at Francis. "Well?"

Francis rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Umm, it's good."

"Really?" Violet grinned broadly.

Francis shrugged. "Yeah."

"Can I get it?" Violet clapped her hands together pleadingly. "Please Mom, please?"

"Of course. Go get changed and we'll meet you at the register." Helen smiled and Violet disappeared back into the dressing room with a skip in her step.

* * *

"Let's hit up the food court and then we can start on Francis." Helen said.

Violet smiled and nodded her agreement. "Yeah, I'm starving."

Francis scoffed but trudged after the women. He was so glad nobody he knew would ever be at this mall. Unless they were robbing a store.

Helen slid into a chair at an empty, and relatively clean, table and opened her purse, taking a wad of bills out. She peeled a few away and pressed them into Francis's hand. "Would you mind getting the food? My feet are killing me."

Francis shook his head slowly.

Helen smiled and let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you Francis. I'd like a Caesar salad and a water."

Francis looked at Violet. She swiveled in her chair, taking in all the restaurants littered around the food court. "Um, turkey sandwich and a Coke. Please." She asked politely.

Francis wandered off to get the food. What was he doing? Why was he letting these people order him around and pretty much put his balls up on their trophy case? Oh yeah, they were all that stood between him and Dicker.

Francis scowled at the first server he saw, making the pubescent nerd squeak and dive beneath the counter. Francis smirked. He was still a badass, just not around the Parrs. He could do this. Francis got himself a Coke and returned to the table with all the food to find Violet and Helen speculating on what shoes could be worn with the dress. Francis felt his attention span shrinking. He put the tray down on the table and sank into a chair, sipping at his Coke.

The women both thanked him and started eating, still talking about the dress and its future accessories.

Francis tuned them out and leaned the chair back on two legs, surveying the food court. It was a quiet day at the mall, being the middle of a school day and all.

"Violet! Hi!" Francis looked up and three girls who went to Metroville High School were waving at Violet. She got up and hurried over to them, no doubt to describe her new dress in great detail. Francis rolled his eyes. Girls.

* * *

"It's got a cute black trim and…" Violet was in the middle of saying when she noticed none of her friends were listening; they were all staring over her shoulder. Violet looked and saw her mother trying to engage Francis in conversation. He looked miserable and was just nodding yes or no to Helen's prodding.

"Since when do you hang out with F-Stop?" Janie asked in a low whisper.

Violet brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Um, since yesterday."

"Why?" Tori asked with wide eyes.

"What she's trying to say," Lauren butted in, "is how?"

Violet thought about how to describe the living situation at the Sanctum. "He's staying at my house." She said, careful not to give anything away.

The expressions on her friends' faces indicated they wanted to know more. "Sort of, like a…a…" Violet searched for the right word. "Like a foster home."

"He's a foster kid?" Tori asked.

Violet nodded. "Yup."

"Huh."

Lauren grabbed Violet's arm. "If he's living with you, than you've seen him with his shirt off, right?"

"What?" Violet jerked her arm away in surprise. "No!"

"Too bad." Janie said, smiling at Francis. "He's got a great body."

"You guys!" Violet felt her face reddening. "He's a complete jerk. I don't think of him like that."

Tori shrugged. "He may be a jerk, but he's a jerk with a hot bod."

Violet knew her face was bright red now. She had honestly never even thought about Francis' body. His glaring personality flaws always distracted her.

"Have fun shopping." Lauren said as the girls looked ready to flounce back to their table. They exchanged goodbyes and turned to leave.

Janie smiled over her shoulder. "But not too much fun."

Violet groaned and put a hand over her eyes. Sometimes she wished she were always invisible.

* * *

"Here we go. This is a good place to start." Helen announced and walked into a men's clothing store.

Violet was about to follow her mother in when she noticed Francis. He was standing motionless with his hands in his pockets, staring into the store apprehensively.

Violet pulled on his sleeve. "C'mon."

Francis shook his head. "I don't wanna."

Violet frowned. "What do you mean? It's just shopping. Shopping's fun."

"I don't really shop." Francis muttered, a furrow developing between his eyebrows.

Violet sighed. "It's just a couple of shirts. It's not a big deal." Francis still didn't move. "Look, I tried that dress on in front of you and that made me uncomfortable, but I did it and I'm really glad I did because I love that dress. Even if something is uncomfortable at first doesn't mean it will stay that way." She pulled at his sleeve again. This time Francis let Violet pull him into the store.

In the end, Francis didn't do much shopping. Helen flitted from rack to rack choosing items for him. All Francis had to do was try them on. Helen found him a dressing room and practically shoved him in with a bundle of clothes.

Francis spent the next half hour struggling in and out of clothes. Each item was scrutinized by Helen and Violet and given a thumbs up or a thumbs down. Francis had to admit, he did look good in some of these clothes and it was mostly casual stuff he felt comfortable in. Francis had to assume the jeans, cargo shorts, and t-shirts were courtesy of Violet and the button-down shirts and sweaters were from Helen.

Francis had his shirt off and was in the process of taking off a pair of pants when the dressing room door swung open. "Here, try these on." Helen thrust another pair of pants at him.

Francis yelped and hit the mirror behind him, his legs tangling in the pants.

Helen rolled her eyes. "Oh please honey. I have two boys. It's nothing I haven't seen before." She turned and shut the door.

Francis stared at the closed door trying to catch his breath. He was uncomfortable again.

* * *

Violet stared at the closed door her mother had just swung shut. She had to admit, Francis did have a good body.

"I think those khakis will look really good on him." Helen said, folding some clothes beside her daughter.

Violet looked away and rolled her eyes. "Mom, they have people to fold the clothes. You don't have to do that."

"It's polite." Helen explained.

"It's their job." Violet argued.

Helen looked at Violet. "Didn't you see some of those plaid over shirts in the back? "

Violet nodded enthusiastically, knowing what her mother was saying. "Oh yeah, those would be great."

* * *

Francis collapsed onto his bed with a groan. He had never been so exhausted. He hated shopping. Francis lifted his head to look at the bags he had dropped at the foot of the bed. He hated to admit it, but he kind of liked what he had gotten. And getting new stuff didn't mean he had to stop wearing his old stuff.

There was a knock on the door. Francis didn't move or make a sound.

The door opened a crack and Dash looked in. "Hi."

Francis gave a half-nod.

"Lucius brought back pizza for dinner." Dash said quietly.

"Okay." Francis sat up and ran a hand through his spikes. "I guess that means I gotta go to the kitchen now?"

Dash nodded. "Yup."

"Thanks squirt." Francis threw his legs over the side of the bed and got up, stifling a yawn. He was seriously tired.

Dash grinned and waited in the doorway to walk to the kitchen with Francis.

* * *

Francis took a can of pop from the fridge and sat down, trying to be invisible. The Parrs and the Bests were all talking loudly, enjoying each other's company. Hands were reaching for pizza and stories were being swapped loudly and energetically. Virgil was explaining to his dad how he had beat his pervious best time on the aerial obstacle course that afternoon and Helen was grilling Dash about his day at school. The table was more chaotic than Francis had ever seen it but there were smiles on everyone's faces.

The meal almost passed without incidence. Almost.

During a lull in the conversation, Helen turned to look at Francis and then at the bare table in front of him. "Why aren't you eating anything?"

Francis looked up in surprise. He was sure he had fallen off the radar for the moment. "Um…"

"You know, he didn't eat anything at breakfast either." Bob added.

Now everyone was looking at Francis. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't stop his face from reddening.

"Or at the mall." Violet added.

"What gives Hothead? You watching your figure?" Virgil asked with a hint of a sneer.

"No." Francis shot back, staring down at the table.

"You haven't eaten anything all day. Come to think of it, I didn't see you eat anything yesterday either." Helen recalled. She looked faintly worried now. "You must be starving. What's wrong? Why aren't you eating?"

Francis didn't answer.

"She asked you a question." Bob said.

Francis mumbled something indecipherable.

"What?" Bob asked.

"I'm…" Francis let out a deep breath. "I have food allergies okay?"

Lucius clapped a hand over Virgil's mouth to keep him from laughing.

"Oh." Helen smiled. "Is that all? That's not a problem. What are you allergic to?"

"Wheat." Francis muttered, his face a bright red from embarrassment.

"Oh." Helen said again, with far less relief. "That…that includes a lot."

"It explains why you're not eating the pizza." Violet said around a mouthful of pepperoni.

Francis cocked his head to the side. "Well, yeah. This table's pretty much a death trap."

"That's no problem. No problem at all." Helen declared after a moment of awkward silence. "What sort of things can you eat?"

Francis shrugged and slouched in his seat. He'd never actually admitted to having a wheat allergy before and it had never come up because he'd been in charge of what he ate for the last five years. He didn't like having it out in the open now. "Fruit, vegetables, rice. Non-gluten stuff."

"I'll go shopping tomorrow." Helen assured the pyro.

"In the meantime, you gotta eat something." Lucius said and stood up, heading for the fridge. "Want an apple?"

Francis nodded. He was hungry.

Lucius tossed him the fruit and Francis expertly snatched it out of the air and hungrily took a bite.

Slowly, conversation resumed around the table. Francis tossed his apple from hand-to-hand, much happier now that he had some food in his stomach.

* * *

"Bob, have you read Francis' file?" Helen slid into bed next to her husband.

"No. Why?" Bob was sitting, propped up by several pillows, reading a book.

Helen shoved some papers under his nose. "He has some real medical issues we didn't know about."

"So, what does that mean?" Bob asked not taking his eyes from the pages.

"It means if he ever gets sick we're going to have to be really careful about how we treat it." Helen answered. "It's not the sort of thing where if he got the flu we'd give him a bowl of soup and send him to bed. He might have to go to the hospital."

Bob looked up, sighed, and shut his book. He glanced over at his wife. "Look, I know this is probably serious stuff, but I think the kid knows how to handle himself. He's managed on his own for a long time. If he needs help, he can ask for it. Until then, he's still some punk kid I don't trust and don't want under my roof."

Helen laid aside the papers with a huff. "You know what Bob, you have to stop treating Francis like a prisoner. This is not a prison. This is my home."

"The kid could do with some discipline. You can't argue with that." Bob defended himself.

"I think you're taking it a little too far." Helen argued.

Bob threw his hands up in frustration. "Tell you what, you do things your way, and I'll do things my way."

Helen frowned. "You are the most stubborn man on the entire planet."

"Well now that's just ridiculous." Bob said simply. "Have you met everybody on the planet?"

Helen looked at her husband silently and reached for the bedside light, plunging the room into darkness.

"Oh my god. I won a fight." Bob said into the dark. "I actually won a fight!"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Um...yay!? I dunno. Not sure what to say right now. I like this chapter I guess. It's okay. A lot of it sounded better in my head, but oh well. Also, I fear I am starting to write Helen less as Helen and more like my mom. That dressing room intrusion thing, actually done my Bubbie. A lot more awkward. I happen to know a number of people who have wheat allergies and we know Francis has some sort of mysterious medical history so I figured, why not? Yup.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGZEhyde


	5. Chapter 5: Appearances

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles.

**Chapter Five: Appearances**

It was four in the morning. Francis was sleeping very soundly.

That ended abruptly.

Francis was yanked from his bed and dragged from the room. He wasn't even completely awake and let himself be dragged for a moment before snapping to his sense. "Wha…?" He asked sleepily.

Bob, decked out in sweats, pulled the pyro to eye-level. "You first day of training starts now."

"Now?" Francis asked in bewilderment. He was wearing boxers and a wife beater. Not exactly work out material.

"Yes, now." Bob smirked. He kept his hand on Francis' shoulder as the two stepped towards a bookshelf. Bob pulled one book back and the shelf slid away, revealing an elevator.

Francis did a double take. "That's really cliché."

Bob shot him a look. Francis shut up.

The elevator took them into the heart of the Sanctum's headquarters. Beneath the house was a huge labyrinth of rooms, including the control room Francis had seen on his first night. Bob steered Francis away from the main room and directed him down a long hallway. They passed a room labeled "Loft" and Francis remembered Virgil asking permission to use it yesterday. He wondered what it was. Francis was so distracted by the other doors that he didn't notice Bob push one open.

Before he could react, Francis was grabbed again and bodily thrown into a pool. A pool filled with freezing cold water. Francis struggled to the surface and gasped, clambering for the side of the pool. 'The hell you doing?" Francis asked, his body convulsing with shivers.

Bob squatted down in front of Francis with an amused smile on his face. "Your training. I get the feeling your powers don't work in water?"

Francis' sullen expression answered that question.

"So first things first, we're going to build up your immunity to water." Bob explained. "Your pretty useless if a little downpour is going to take you out of a fight."

"But its fucking freezing!" Francis protested, not liking how his teeth were chattering.

Bob shrugged. "You'll get used to it." He raised an eyebrow. "You do know how to swim, right?"

"Course I know how to swim." Francis grumbled.

"Good. Here." Bob pulled something from behind his back. It was a black swimsuit. "Put this on. Locker rooms are over there." Bob nodded across the pool. "After that, let's see how fast you can swim fifty laps."

Francis' jaw dropped. "Fifty?"

"Did I stutter?" Bob asked.

"But…but I get tired in water." Francis revealed.

Bob gestured to the pool. "That's why we're doing this. Go."

Francis pulled himself out of the pool and hugged himself, shivering uncontrollably as he trudged to the locker room.

* * *

"…fifty…" Francis gasped, slapping his hand down on the edge. It had taken a long time and Francis was exhausted but he had swum all fifty laps. Without cheating either. Bob paced the length of the pool as Francis swam it, making sure the pyro touched each end and critiquing his technique.

Francis' arms shook as he held onto the side, trying to get his breath back. At least the pool water had warmed the longer he had been it.

"How you feeling?" Bob asked.

"Tired." Francis rasped through deep breaths.

"Well, we're going to do this everyday and hopefully you'll be able to swim faster and with more energy after a while." Bob explained.

Francis looked up at him, incredulous. "Every day?"

Bob nodded. "The only way to make a difference. All of your training is going to involve water."

Francis frowned. "Wait, so I don't get to use my powers?"

"Not at first." Bob said. "We'll see how things turn out."

"That sucks." Francis kicked the pool wall.

"Oh. Here you two are." Helen walked into the pool area, followed by Dash in his bathing suit. Dash excitedly ran to the edge and jumped in, splashing Francis and his dad.

"Hiya!" Dash swam over to Francis and hung onto the wall next to him. "What are you doing?"

"Being tortured." Francis responded with a glare at Bob.

"Being trained." Bob corrected. He stood up and looked at his wife. "What are you two doing up so early?"

"It's a little after seven." Helen explained. "I was going to head to the store so Francis could have a good breakfast after his training."

"I wanted to swim." Dash supplied, scrambling to the ledge of the pool and back flipping off.

"Be careful." Helen scolded. "You don't want to slip."

Dash tugged at Francis' arm. "Hey, wanna see me run on water?"

"In a minute squirt." Francis shook the boy off and looked at Bob. "So are we done?"

"Not even close." Bob walked over to a chest along the wall and opened it. He reached in, rummaged for a moment, and then came back up with several tubes.

"I love those!" Dash said excitedly. "Throw one for me Dad!"

Bob shook his head. "Sorry Dash. These are for Francis. Let him get them."

"What are they?" Francis asked.

Bob held them up. They were little plastic tubes in bright colors. "These sink when thrown into water. I'm going to throw them and you're going to get them before they hit the bottom."

"What happens if they hit the bottom?" Francis asked.

Bob shrugged. "You swim five laps."

"Aw c'mon." Francis groaned.

Bob gestured to the pool. "This is an Olympic-sized pool. You better swim fast."

Bob reared back and launched a green tube into the pool. It landed with a splash thirty or so feet from Francis.

Francis kicked off from the wall and swam beneath the water. He got to the tube an instant after it hit the bottom. Francis grabbed it and swam for the surface.

Bob shook his head. "Too bad."

Francis growled to himself, threw the tube back to Bob, and started on his five laps.

* * *

"That's a wrap for today." Bob announced after few more hours of exercises.

Francis nodded wearily. He tried to pull himself out of the pool but his arms were shaking too much. Bob reached out a hand, grabbed Francis' arm, and yanked the teen out of the water like he was weightless. Francis collapsed onto the tile, breathing in deep gulps of air.

"Rest up, eat something fortifying, and be ready for tomorrow." Bob ordered.

Francis nodded again, closing his eyes. He was so tired.

"Here."

Francis opened his eyes. Dash was standing over him with a smile, a towel in his outstretched hand.

"Thanks." Francis took the towel and sat up. A thought occurred to him. "Aren't you supposed to be at school by now?"

Dash laughed. "No, it's Saturday."

"Oh." Francis ran through the days in his mind. They'd gone awfully fast. "How about that?"

"Dad said you got the rest of the day off. Wanna play?" Dash asked excitedly.

Francis ran the towel over his head, drying his hair, and then let the towel rest across his shoulders. "I'm really tired."

"Oh." Dash frowned a little. He looked as though he were thinking about something. Francis got to his feet. His legs were shaking.

"Well, you haven't seen much of the house. Can I show you around?" Dash asked with the same hopeful tone.

Francis sighed. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"Great! C'mon." Dash grabbed Francis' hand and pulled him from the pool area.

* * *

"This is the Loft." Dash said, pointing at the door. There was a little red light on above the door.

"What's that?" Francis nodded his head at the light.

"Virg's in there." Dash explained. "We can watch from the Observation Deck." Dash opened a door a feet away from the Loft and ushered Francis in.

There was a long flight of stairs that the two climbed before reaching a narrow room. One wall was entirely made of windows and along the other was some computers and other monitors. Lucius was sitting at the console of one. He looked up when the two boys entered.

"Hey. How was training?" Lucius smiled.

"Hard." Francis said with a bit of a grimace.

"Swimming?" Lucius asked again, noticing Francis' attire.

"Yup."

Dash ran to the windows and pressed his hands against it, looking down into the room below.

"Oh cool! He's running Rescue."

"Rescue?" Francis walked over to the windows. The Observation Deck looked down onto a huge room, the size of an aircraft hangar.

At one end of the Loft hung a dummy dressed in men's clothing. Virgil was standing on a thin metal disc fifty feet in the air, flying towards the dummy. Without warning several objects were ejected from the walls and shot at Virgil, who had to dodge them. There was a scoreboard on the wall behind the dummy. There were thirty seconds on the board and it was counting down.

Virgil flew under an obstacle and dodged around a pillar that shot up from the floor. Fifteen seconds.

"He's got it." Lucius said behind them.

Sure enough with five seconds left on the clock, Virgil wrapped an arm around the dummy's torso, tearing it from the rope and stopping the clock.

Virgil flashed a thumbs up at the Observation Deck. Lucius leaned forward over the console and pressed a button. "Nice run Virgil, but you were sloppy on the blades."

Virgil held out his arms like, so what?

"Your shoulder." Lucius supplied.

Virgil twisted his neck to get a look at his shoulder. He pulled at the shirt he was wearing. There was a large tear in the fabric where a blade had nearly sliced him.

"You keep cutting it that close and I'm going to downgrade you back to ejections only." Lucius warned. "This is training. Not the real deal. No point getting hurt."

Virgil looked annoyed but Francis could tell he agreed with his father. Virgil flew back to the swinging rope and hooked the dummy back up, setting the clock back to its sixty seconds. He made a motion with his hand for his dad to set the simulation up again.

"So this is his training?" Francis asked. He was impressed.

Lucius nodded while checking things on the computer. "Yeah, this and some other things."

"Well, this is actually cool." Francis muttered. "Why don't I get to do stuff like this?"

"Because we don't trust you." Lucius said simply.

Francis turned to look at the adult. Lucius shrugged. "What do you expect? Trust is something you have to earn."

Francis rolled his eyes. Do-gooder.

* * *

Finding a hanger, Francis hung up some of his new shirts in the closet. Helen had given him very specific instructions on what needed to be hung so it didn't wrinkle. Francis didn't care, but she'd made a point of telling him so he might as well listen.

Dash was sitting on his bed watching Francis put away the clothes. His room seemed fuller now. While Helen had been grocery shopping she'd even picked up a black comforter and sheets so his bed was less frilly.

"Do you like football?" Dash asked. He was sitting cross-legged.

"Sure." Francis shrugged. He looked at the little boy. "If your gonna be here you might as well make yourself useful." He dumped a load of t-shirt onto the bed. "Fold those."

Dash happily started on the chore. "Do you like the Metroville Monsters?" He asked.

"Yeah, course. Home team and everything." Francis said off-handedly.

"Who's your favorite player?"

Francis looked at Dash. "Dunno, Jackson I guess."

"I like Gerard Hamilton." Dash supplied. "He's the fastest receiver in the whole league."

Francis snickered. That would be why Dash would like a player.

"He's got more touchdowns than anyone else in the Eastern Conference." Dash added.

"Yeah. Hamilton's good." Francis said.

"Wait here." Dash abruptly jumped up and ran from the room.

Francis shrugged and started on the drawers. In a moment, Dash was back with a roll of tape in one hand and a rolled-up poster in the other. "Here." He offered them to Francis.

Francis raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

Dash unrolled it. It was a poster of Gerard Hamilton. "For your room." Dash explained.

Francis almost laughed but managed to keep it in. Dash looked so serious offering his own poster to Francis. "That's ok."

"Oh." Dash frowned.

Francis took in the crestfallen look and then sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know what? My walls are kinda bare, huh?"

Dash nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"And Hamilton is the best receiver in the whole league." Francis prodded.

Dash nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah!"

"I could put it over the desk. I think it would make my room a lot cooler." Francis looked at Dash. "If you don't mind, that is."

Dash shook his head. "No! Here!" He thrust the poster in Francis' hands.

Francis turned and taped the poster to the wall, chuckling to himself. He stepped back in line with Dash. They both looked at the poster. "What do you think?" Francis asked.

Dash rubbed his chin, evaluating the wall. "Cool."

"Very cool. Thanks squirt." Francis held his hand out.

Dash slapped his own little palm against Francis' with a grin. "No problem."

"So, what's the deal with your Dad?" Francis asked after a moment. He kicked the new pair of sneakers Helen had gotten him into the closet and shut the door. It felt good to have a full closet. Francis sat on the bed and started tearing open packages of socks.

Dash clambered onto the bed beside Francis and looked at him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"Is he always such a huge dou…" Francis caught himself. "…jerk?"

Dash chuckled. "That's just 'cause he doesn't like you."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I got that."

"Violet says Dad is old-school." Dash explained. "He likes things to be the way he thinks they should be. When they aren't he gets mad." Dash smiled. "But he's also the best Dad in the whole world."

Francis thought about that. It was probably true. The way Bob had been very over-protective of his family the last few days indicated to Francis that he would do anything for those he loves and pity the fool who endangered them. Francis did not want to get in the way of Mr. Incredible. Not even because of the threat of being sent away. Francis liked all his appendages attached and functional thank you very much.

Francis tore the packaging into little bits. "But I haven't done anything wrong yet."

Dash shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe your one of those punks Dad's always talking about." Dash jumped to his feet and put his hands on his hips, jutting out his chin. "_Those no good punks cluttering up the streets with their music and graffiti and disrespect for the law!_" Dash mimicked his father in a very passable impersonation.

Francis looked at the little boy and fell back on the bed, convulsing with laughter.

"What's going on in here?" Bob stuck his head into the room.

"Hi Dad!" Dash waved.

Francis raised his head to look at the adult.

Bob frowned, surveying the situation. He noticed the crumpled bits of plastic and empty bags littering the room. "Clean this place up. New rule, you've got to keep your room clean." Bob tapped the door. "And this has to stay open unless you're changing or sleeping."

Francis nodded.

Bob looked around again before turning to leave. "No good punk."

Dash and Francis looked at each other and collapsed into laughter.

* * *

"Look, look!" Helen pulled Francis into the kitchen.

Francis looked around. "Very nice. Can I go sleep?"

Helen slapped his arm. "Come here." She led him to the fridge and opened the door. She pulled a loaf of bread from a shelf and held it in front of Francis' face. "Sweet potato bread." She shrugged her shoulders, smiling broadly. "I had no idea they even made that."

Francis was a little taken aback. "What?"

"You can eat this!" Helen said proudly. "No wheat, no gluten. Perfectly safe." She put it back in the fridge and moved to the cupboards. She pulled down a box of cookies and a box of cereal. She laid them out on the counter for Francis. "Go on. Read the ingredients."

Francis picked up the cereal and read the ingredients as he had become accustomed to doing over the years. No wheat. Same with the cookies. Francis was dumbfounded. "You…you went out and found all this stuff? For me?"

"Of course. This is _not_ a prison." Helen said rather pointedly, Francis got the feeling she wasn't addressing this at him. "I'd like you to feel comfortable here."

"Wow. Thanks." Francis said a little uncertainly.

"No problem sweetie." Helen smiled and left the kitchen.

Francis looked at the cookie in his hand and then at the doorway Helen had just walked out of. Nobody had ever gone out of their way to make him feel comfortable before. It felt…nice.

Francis smiled to himself and tore open the cookies, stuffed three in his mouth, grabbed a pop from the fridge, and headed back to his room. This place wasn't _so_ bad.

* * *

By the end of the weekend Francis couldn't move. Every muscle in his body ached. All he could do was lie on his bed and gather enough strength to leave the room for meals. Bob was relentless in training. They would work in the pool doing various strenuous exercises for several hours, or until Francis couldn't go anymore. Then Bob would unceremoniously dismiss him and Francis would crawl back to his room and lie in pain for several more hours until dinner.

He had to admit, he was sure these exercises were going to be good for him, eventually. Once his body got used to them. So far, they just incapacitated him for hours on end.

The worst thing that had happened over the weekend? Helen had found out about his grades.

And they were not good.

What? It's not like Francis wasn't smart, he just didn't bother to show up most of the time. Upon reading his dismal grades, Helen had insisted Francis put in two hours a night to catching up on all his missed school work, which he couldn't skip on because she would sit next to him and make sure he knew what he was doing. It was annoying. It's not like Francis was going to go to college or anything like that. So long as he got his diploma, who cares how high his GPA is?

When Francis had tried to explain this Helen had launched into a speech about potential and about all the unused potential Francis had sitting around that would be a shame not to utilize. Francis tuned her out and opened his math book. That had shut her up and she had beamed at him. Francis had rolled his eyes.

On top of all this, Virgil was taking every opportunity to poke fun at Francis, and there wasn't a damn thing the pyro could do in retaliation. If he tried to insult the other boy, he would get a swat from some nearby adult and Francis couldn't physically touch Virgil or he'd be booted from the house. Those were the only two things Francis could think of and neither was very effective anymore. Virgil was loving every minute of Francis' discomfort.

Francis eagerly waited for Monday. It was the first time he had ever been excited to go to school. It would mean getting out of the house for seven hours. Seven wonderful hours away from Bob's constant surveillance, Helen's overwhelming motherly tendencies, and Virgil's smart-ass comments. Francis could go to school and pretend the last few days hadn't happened. Maybe sneak in a visit with some of his friends and explain his absence. He was sure they thought he was dead by now. If they didn't hear from a buddy for a few days, that was the general assumption. They'd probably go looking for Francis though because he was the leader.

Francis went to sleep Sunday night as tired as he had ever been in his entire life. He lay flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dark; his muscles ached every time he tried to move so he had just settled for this position. Francis waited for sleep to overcome him and let out a deep sigh. He missed his old life. This new one was strange and frankly, unwelcome.

He liked Dash and Violet okay and Helen was all right if she didn't get too smothering. Lucius was okay too, but Francis had a hard time thinking of him as anything but his mom's ex-boyfriend.

Long story short? Francis wanted out of the Sanctum. At least he could temporarily escape to school. Francis smiled at the thought and blissfully drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Awww, Francis had Dash could totally be BFFs. This is really more of a filler chapter. I wasn't sure what to write to fill all the space. I have some major events that shape the story and that means I need filler to occupy the spaces between those events. Don't worry. There is an event next chapter. I still think this chapter, despite its lackadaisical nature, is pretty good. I'm getting back into that groove. It feels good.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	6. Chapter 6: New Colors

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Six: New Colors**

Metroville High School was a bitch.

No, no. Metroville High School was a tease.

Francis rested his forehead against the cool surface of the kitchen table and folded his hands over the back of his head, suppressing the urge to groan and whine like a four year old who didn't get their way.

Metroville High School was closed yet again. Francis' sanctuary was cruelly torn from his grip. Virgil, Violet, and Francis were seated at the kitchen table, watching the news. Under school closings flashed the name of their high school.

"Cool. Another day off." Virgil grinned.

Violet wasn't as enthusiastic. "They said the school would be closed indefinitely. What are we supposed to do?"

"Die a slow painful death?" Francis muttered to the table.

Violet and Virgil ignored him.

Helen walked into the kitchen. She looked from the TV to the three teens sitting around the table. "No school again?" She sounded frustrated.

Virgil shook his head. "Nope."

"Well." Helen put her hands on her hips. "That is unacceptable."

Violet knew that look. "What are you going to do?" She asked.

Helen pursed her lips. "I don't know. But I'm going to do something." She looked at Francis. "You'd better get down to the pool."

Francis couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips. Virgil chuckled at him. Francis glared back.

"Go on." Helen flicked the dishcloth at him.

"I'm going." Francis stood and walked from the kitchen, dragging his feet in reluctance.

* * *

Nobody knew what Helen was up to until Friday. Then she dropped a bomb on the teenaged inhabitants of the Sanctum.

It happened at lunchtime. Francis was lying across two chairs, trying not to fall asleep. Virgil and Violet were arguing over who got the last pop and were jerking the can back and forth between them in a heated exchange.

Helen interrupted the fight by walking into the room and unceremoniously dropping a stack of papers onto the kitchen table. The smack of hundreds of papers meeting the table reverberated around the kitchen like a gunshot, causing Francis to jerk his head up suddenly in alarm. Violet and Virgil stopped arguing to look at Helen.

"What's all that?" Violet asked.

Helen put her hand on the stack of paper and smiled at the three teens. "These are all the forms I have filled out this past week concerning your transference to Dakota High School."

Violet and Virgil's mouths drops open. Francis raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Virgil managed to choke out.

Helen nodded. "You heard me. Who knows when Metroville is going to re-open? In the meantime your studies are being neglected and that is simply unacceptable."

"Well, yeah." Violet said slowly. "But…Dakota?"

"I thought it would be a nice change of pace." Helen explained.

"Mom..." Violet started.

Virgil jumped in. "Dakota's forty-five minutes away! It's a different city. How can we go to school there?"

"We'll pay an out-of-district tuition." Helen said, maintaining a calm demeanor. "Dakota is a very good high school." She looked around the kitchen. "And you're going, no more arguing. Be ready on Monday."

Violet huffed angrily and stalked from the kitchen, leaving Virgil with the can of pop in hand, a bewildered look on his face. After a few moment of standing there comically, Virgil left the kitchen too.

Francis thought about throwing a hissy fit, hen decided he was too tired. But this did suck, a lot. Now he'd never get to see his crew again, and they would for sure think he'd either ditched them or bit the dust. Neither was acceptable to Francis.

And Dakota?

What parent in their right mind would send their kid to Dakota for school?

Ok, yeah, the school itself might be good with dedicated teachers and all that brochure bull shit, but the city was known for its gang problems. It was even more overrun than Metroville. Not to mention there was no Super in Dakota, which meant the gangs had little fear. All they had to do was avoid the cops, which wasn't really that hard.

The more Francis thought about it, the more he realized Dakota might be a good place for him. He could try and fall in with a new crew. He'd have a clean slate. Francis smirked and let his head fall back against the chair cushion. That sounded like a very good thing.

* * *

Come Monday morning, all the kids of the Sanctum were up and ready for school, albeit grudgingly. Dash had woken up early to see his sister and Virgil off. "So, how are we getting there?" Virgil asked sleepily with a frown.

"Yeah. Are you going to drive us forty-five minutes every morning?" Violet asked snidely.

Helen, Bob, and Lucius exchanged glance. "Nope." Bob answered.

"We figured Virg could fly." Lucius explained.

Virgil's head shot up, a grin exploding across his face. "Really?"

"If…" Lucius held up his hand warningly. "…if you are extremely careful."

Virgil's grin just got wider and he nodded quickly. "Yeah. No problem."

"I mean it Virgil." Lucius said. "We're trusting you. Don't let us down."

"I won't." Virgil assured him. "I'll go grab my uniform." He dashed from the room to retrieve his Static uniform.

"As for you two." Helen looked at Francis and Violet. "Come with us."

Francis and Violet exchanged uneasy looks but followed after the adults.

They were led to a massive garage where all the family cars and various vehicles were stored. Bob walked over to something covered with a sheet, gripped the fabric, and pulled it away. Beneath the sheet was a shiny, new motorcycle with a red paint job.

Francis' eyes widened just looking at the fine piece of machinery. "Wow." He gasped appreciatively.

"You'll be taking this to school." Helen explained.

"What?" Violet and Francis asked simultaneously.

"I looked through your wallet." Bob pulled Francis' wallet from his pocket. "I noticed you had a motorcycle license." He tossed the wallet back to Francis. "You can drive this, and Violet, to school, so long as you obey these rules."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Of course there are rules."

Bob held up one finger. "You obey all traffic laws." He looked at Violet. "Feel free to tell me if he doesn't." Violet nodded. Bob held up another finger. "You drive very carefully." He pointed at Violet. "You are transporting my daughter. Hurt her and I will hurt you."

"Daddy." Violet flushed.

Bob held up a third and final finger. "You will always be on time. No tardies."

Francis nodded and held out his hand eagerly. Bob tossed him the keys with a grimace, as though he regretted it already.

Violet looked over to her mother, apprehension on her face. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Helen smoother a wisp of Violet's hair away form her face. "Don't worry sweetie. I wouldn't let this happen if I didn't think you'd be safe. Besides, I just don't have the time to drive forty-five minutes every morning. I have Jack-Jack to look after, my Super duties, not to mention all the house work." Helen noticed the distressed look hadn't left Violet's face. "Anyway, I'm sure Francis will take good care of you." This last was directed at Francis with a pointed stare.

Francis nodded hurriedly. " Yes ma'am."

Virgil ran into the room, in uniform with his backpack slung over his shoulder and his disc unfolded and in his hand. "I'm ready to…" He stopped short, noticing the motorcycle. "Whoa."

Lucius pulled his sleeve up to check his watch. "You guys better be leaving."

"Here." Helen plucked the two black helmets off the motorcycle and handed them to Violet and Francis. "Another rule, you always have to wear helmets." Both teens nodded.

A loud wail emitted from the baby monitor clipped to Helen's belt. She sighed. "I've got to go check on Jack-Jack." Helen leaned over and kissed Violet on the cheek. "Have a good first day. I can't wait to hear all about it." Helen left the room.

Lucius hit the garage door button and the door creaked open, letting in the weak morning light.

Virgil slid his mask on and jumped onto his disc, hovering a few feet in the air. "See you guys at school." He saluted the group and took off.

Francis swung one leg over the motorcycle and put his hands on the handlebars, flexing his hands in anticipation. Violet edged her way over to the bike and looked at it uncertainly. Francis let one hand drop, sighed, and looked at her. "C'mon. Don't have all day you know." He scooted forward on the seat and patted the cushion behind him.

Slowly, Violet swung one leg over the bike and straddled the seat. She put her helmet on and tried to find a place for her feet. Lucius smiled at them and walked back into the house.

Francis was about to slip the helmet on over his face when Bob grabbed his arm and leaned over. "I mean it. Don't screw this up."

Francis wrenched his arm away. "Yeah, I got it."

Bob continued to stare stonily at Francis for a moment before backing away and then heading into the house after Lucius.

Francis kicked the side stand away and was about to start the engine when he remembered Violet was sitting rigidly behind him. He turned his head and flipped the visor open. "Seriously?"

Violet opened her visor as well. "What?"

"I can't have you falling off the back of the bike because then your Dad's gonna kick my ass, so hold on for fuck's sake." Francis snapped.

"Hold on…?" Violet muttered to questioningly herself.

Francis rolled his eyes. He reached behind, took hold of Violet's arms, and wrapped them around his waist. "Like this."

"Oh." Violet clasped her hands together over Francis' stomach. "Ok."

"Don't let go." Francis reminded her.

"Ok." Violet agreed.

Francis slapped his visor shut and put the key in the ignition, starting the engine. The bike roared to life beneath them. Violet let out a startled little yelp. Her grip tightened on Francis.

Francis chuckled. He loved that sound. He turned the throttle and shifted the bike into the right gear. Then he pealed out of the garage and onto the street.

Violet buried her head into Francis' shoulder, swearing at the sudden acceleration. It was uncomfortable riding on the back, mostly because Francis' backpack was making it difficult to hang on.

Francis veered onto the freeway and directed the bike towards Dakota, a smile on his face.

* * *

They pulled into the parking lot of Dakota High School five minutes before the warning bell rang. They attracted quite a few stares. It _was_ nice bike after all. And they probably looked badass riding it.

"Can't believe I found this place on the first try." Francis pulled his helmet off, running a hand through his spiky red hair and looking up at the building. Behind him, Violet unclasped her hands and removed her own helmet, shaking out her hair.

"Where do we put these?" Violet asked, meaning the helmets. Francis swung his leg over the side of the bike and kicked the side stand out in one fluid movement. He offered Violet his hand and she allowed him to help her up. Francis took the helmet from her and popped a latch behind the cushion. The seat sprang up. There was a little compartment under the seat and Francis stowed the helmets there.

"Okay." Violet said, putting her hands on her hips, looking just like her mother. "When we're on the bike, your backpack is going in there. It was hard to hold onto you around that thing."

Francis chuckled. "Deal."

The two turned and headed for the school, taking no notice of the stares. "You know, you're actually a very good driver." Violet said.

Francis looked sideways at her. "One of my many talents."

"How'd you learn to drive?" They climbed the steps to the front doors, and again Francis was the picture of chivalry, holding the door open for Violet.

He shrugged. "Got into some track racing stuff when I was younger. Got pretty good at it."

"In Metroville?" Violet's brow furrowed. "I didn't know here was a motorcycle racing circuit in Metroville."

Francis smirked. "Not a legal one."

"Oh." Violet wasn't sure what to say after that. She pulled at a lock of her hair. "Um…I think we're supposed to go the principal's office…to…you know..." She coughed uncomfortably.

"Get our schedules?" Francis guessed.

"Yes." Violet said.

Francis smirked, relishing the in the fact that he had just made Incredi-Girl so nervous over some petty crime.

"Hey guys!" Virgil waved to them from a doorway. "Beat you here."

"You didn't have to deal with morning traffic." Violet reminded him and followed the other boy into the room, which was the office. Francis reluctantly stepped in after them. He didn't like principal's offices.

Virgil dropped into a plastic chair along the wall and Violet and Francis followed suit. "They said they'd be right with us." Virgil explained.

"So, no trouble?" Violet asked.

Virgil grinned. "Nope. It was great."

"Good." Violet smiled back.

Francis rolled his eyes and slumped in his seat, assuming the posture of the slacker punk role he was so accustomed to. The secretary gave him the stink eye over her computer. Francis smirked back.

* * *

"Check out this schedule!" Virgil exclaimed. "Advanced everything! These courses are going to kick my ass."

"Somebody should." Francis muttered. Violet smacked him on the arm with a disapproving look. Francis pouted, rubbing the spot. "I thought that stopped outside the house!" He protested.

The three had gotten their schedules and a map of the school to find their classes. They had missed the first class and were about to set off from the office to find their next class.

"Mr. Stone, could I have a word with you?" The principal asked from his office doorway.

Francis frowned and nodded.

"See you at lunch." Violet said. It wasn't a question. Helen had asked that they all stick together on the first day.

"Sure." Francis nodded. Virgil and Violet disappeared into the stream of students in the hallway. Francis sighed and walked into the office.

"Have a seat." The principal gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. Francis shrugged his backpack off and slid into the chair. The name placard on the desk said Peter Duncan. Principal Duncan.

"I was reading through your file Francis, as I do for all transfer students." Duncan placed a rather hefty manila folder onto the desk. It had a rubber band to hold it shut. Francis felt the corner of his mouth quirk up. Yup. That was his file all right.

"Let me make one thing very clear." Duncan said slowly, putting one hand on the file and tapping the desk with the other. "I do not want trouble at this school. If your record is any indication, you seem to like causing disruptions." Duncan looked at Francis for confirmation. Francis stared stonily back.

Duncan's face hardened. "I will not tolerate that kind of behavior here. I'm warning you now. One wrong move, and you will not be a student at Dakota High School any longer. It took a lot of campaigning on behalf of your guardian for this transfer to even be accepted by the board."

Francis frowned. "My guardian?"

Duncan nodded. "A Mrs. Helen Parr."

Son of a bitch. The Parrs were his guardians now? Fuck that. Francis clenched his fists.

"I just want to stress that second chances don't come along all that often. I hope you take advantage of this one." Duncan put the file away and stood up. Francis followed suit.

"I hope I don't see you in here again." Duncan extended his hand.

Francis shook it, fighting the urge to crush the man's hand. He forced a thin smile onto his face and then left the office as fast as he could.

* * *

Francis' morning went as smoothly as could be expected. He controlled his temper and kept quiet, sitting in the back of all his classes, ducking his head whenever the teacher looked his way. Thankfully classes had only been in session for a few weeks so he hadn't missed very much.

His schedule was very similar to the one he had had back at Metroville, all the usual classes. Nothing advanced like Virgil or artistic like Violet, who had somehow managed to be in two art classes and a creative writing course.

Francis slunk into the cafeteria feeling very strung out, his lingering anger sapping his energy. Francis looked around for Violet and Virgil and saw them sitting with some blond kid at a table off to the side. Violet spotted him at the moment and waved him over. Francis sank into a chair at the table and rested his head in his hand, closing his eyes.

"What's wrong with you?" Virgil asked.

"Nothin'." Francis mumbled.

"You should eat something." Violet suggested.

"In a minute." Francis just wanted to rest for second.

When he opened his eyes, the other three were looking at him curiously. "Bad morning." He explained and sat up straight.

"Hi." The blond boy stuck out his hand. "I'm Richie."

"Francis." He shook hands.

"Rich is in most of my classes." Virgil explained.

"Yeah, so you guys were telling about the whole terrorist thing." Richie looked excited. "We heard all about that. Sounds crazy."

"It was." Violet said. "But also pretty scary."

Virgil nodded. "Those guys were not messing around. It's a good thing no one was hurt."

Francis cleared his throat.

Virgil smirked. "Oh, yeah except Francis. He got pistol whipped."

Richie turned to Francis with astonishment on his face. "Really? Oh, is that what that bandage is?"

The bruise over Francis' nose had mostly faded but his stitches weren't due to come out until the weekend so he was still sporting a white bandage. He nodded. "Yup."

"Wow." Richie was impressed. He looked at the three undercover Supers. "So, you guys all live together?"

Violet, Virgil, and Francis exchanged looks. They hadn't really figured out how to explain their living situation to others.

"Well my Dad and Vi's Dad have been best friends since before we were born. Our families have always been close and then we just sort of moved in with them." Virgil explained.

Richie looked at Francis. He shrugged. "I got nothing."

Violet laughed nervously. "Don't be stupid Francis." Francis raised an eyebrow at her. "You're staying with us because we're a foster home." Violet explained to Richie.

"Ah." Richie nodded in understanding.

Francis frowned. Foster home?

"Go eat." Violet prodded Francis from his seat. "Mom made me promise to make sure you do."

Francis rolled his eyes but refrained from saying something mean. He'd probably just get hit again. Instead, Francis wandered off towards the food line. Hopefully he could find something to eat.

* * *

"What did you want me to say?" Violet asked.

"I dunno." Francis muttered. "I just didn't think you were gonna announce I was suddenly a foster kid."

They were walking to English, which they had together.

Violet pulled at her hair nervously. "Well, Richie's not exactly the first person I've said that to."

Francis stopped. "What?"

Violet sighed. "I might've told some girls who went to Metroville High." Francis gaped at her. She stomped her foot in frustration. "What do you want me to say? I had to explain you being with us somehow. They saw us together at the mall."

Francis threw his hands up in exasperation. "Whatever. Forget it. It's not like I'm gonna see anyone who goes to that school ever again."

He stormed past Violet to the classroom. She rushed to catch up.

* * *

"Looks like you're having a craptastic day." Virgil commented.

Francis slammed his locker shut and leveled a glare at the other boy. "Yeah, actually I am. I thought going back to school meant I could get away from you freaks for a couple of hours but no. You're everywhere."

Virgil smirked. "Get used to it."

"Hey guys." Richie walked up to them with a smile. "Wanna hang out after school? I was going to head over to Burger Fool with some people."

"Aw, sorry bro." Virgil apologized. "We're supposed to head straight back to Metroville. Our parents want a full report on our first day."

Richie laughed. "Yeah okay. Some other time?"

"Of course." The two bumped fists, already fast friends.

Francis snorted. Dorks.

"Hey. Were you the one driving that bike today?" Richie asked Francis.

"Yeah."

"Awesome ride."

Francis did a double take. "Yeah?"

Richie nodded. "Oh yeah, definitely. You are packing some serious horsepower there. I can only imagine the control you get on that thing."

Francis chuckled. Okay, not too big of a dork. He knew his engines at least.

"It handles pretty good." Francis agreed. The three boys turned to walk down the hallway.

Richie opened his mouth to say something else, but Francis didn't catch what it was. A girl walked past going in the opposite direction and Francis felt his jaw drop. She was gorgeous. She had long reddish brown hair and sparkly blue eyes. She was laughing at something her friend had said and Francis thought absently that it was the prettiest laugh he had ever heard.

Then he walked into a locker.

"Ow." Francis put a hand to his face, feeling it flush with embarrassment. Virgil was cracking up beside him. His gaze was still on the girl walking away. The view was just as good going as it was coming.

"Who is that?" He gasped.

"Who?" Richie asked.

Francis pointed after the girl.

"Oh. That's Frieda Goren. She's cool." Richie explained.

"I want her." Francis said.

"You _want_ her?" Richie asked.

Francis nodded. "Yeah."

Richie shrugged. "Good luck. She's not into your type."

Francis turned on the bespectacled blond. "What do you mean _my type_?"

Richie held his hands up in a placating manner. "Hey, no offense or anything but Frieda's as clean cut as they come and well," he gestured to Francis. "You're not."

Francis shrugged "Opposites attract."

Virgil clapped a hand on Francis' shoulder. "Yeah, go after her. It'll be fun to watch."

Francis scowled and knocked Virgil's hand away. "I'm gonna go out with her." He stated firmly.

"Sure you are." Virgil laughed slinging an arm around Richie's shoulder. The two walked away to their next class.

"I am." Francis said. Frieda Goren huh? Francis smiled to himself. His horrible day may have just been salvaged.

* * *

Helen was waiting for them when they got home. Violet ran inside to launch into a play-by-play account of the entire day while Francis put the bike and helmets away. He checked the fuel. He'd have to fill up before they got on the freeway tomorrow.

When Francis walked into the kitchen there were milk and cookies, of the wheat and non-wheat variety, laid out on the table. Virgil and Violet were already busily dunking their cookies and answering questions. Francis pulled up a chair. Helen handed him a glass of milk. "So how was your day Francis?"

He grabbed a cookie and shrugged. "Could've been worse."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hooray! Look! Familiar faces! And you probably thought I wasn't going to bring them to Dakota. Well you thought wrong! I did! Can you tell I'm excited! Yay!

I am so proud of myself. I actually sat down and made a timeline for this entire story, so now I won't be able to talk myself out of stopping somewhere in the middle. This is going all the way baby! At the moment I have it down for thirty chapters, so get ready for a long haul. It will tie for my longest story. I have one other thirty-chapter behemoth in the archives. Yes, thirty may not seem like a lot, but trust me, when you're the one writing it seems like forever.

P.S If you're having trouble visualizing the motorcycle, go to google images and type in racing motorcycle. The red one in the third row farthest to the right was what I was thinking, although the rest are pretty similar. I'd put a link but FF doesn't like those.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	7. Chapter 7: Adversary

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Seven: Adversary**

"Hi." Francis leaned against the locker next to Frieda's.

She smiled at him and went back to rummaging in her locker. "Hi."

"My name is Francis, I just transferred here." Francis continued.

Frieda shut her locker, clutching her textbooks to her chest. "I'm Frieda." They shook hands.

Francis adjusted his backpack, shuffling his feet nervously. "Um, so. I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime?"

Frieda looked at Francis and then giggled. "You're kidding, right?"

Francis' frown answered her question. Frieda abruptly stopped laughing. "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to laugh at you."

"So, you don't want to go out?" Francis asked.

Frieda sighed. "I hardly know you. Why are you even asking?"

Francis shrugged. "Because I wanted to."

"I'm sorry, but I don't feel comfortable going out with a complete stranger." Frieda apologized. "Friends?"

Francis shook his head. "I don't give up that easy."

Frieda smiled. "My answer is no until further notice." She turned to walk away.

"We'll see." Francis smiled at her back.

* * *

Turns out Francis had Spanish with Frieda. He hadn't noticed her yesterday because he had been desperately trying to keep a low profile. Today, Francis slid into the seat next to her, smiling as charmingly as he could. Frieda giggled and got her notebook out, turning her attention to the teacher.

For the firs time in his life, Francis found himself sitting at the front of the class. He couldn't hide behind the other students. Francis hurried to get his own books out. He wanted to make a good impression on Frieda. So far, Spanish was his favorite subject.

During a lull in the class when the teacher went next door to get something from another teacher, Francis turned to Frieda.

"Wanna go out?"

Frieda turned pink. She looked to her friend on her other side for help, but she was busy hiding her laughter behind her hand. Frieda looked back at Francis. He just smirked at her.

"Do you think I'm going to say yes?" Frieda asked.

"No."

"Then why are you asking?"

Francis shrugged. "I'm persistent."

Frieda smiled. She couldn't help herself. "The answer is still no."

"Okay." Francis turned back to face the chalkboard, busying himself by catching up on the notes the teacher had left behind.

"That's it?" Frieda asked.

"Is what it?" Francis looked at her.

"That's your best shot?" Frieda was taunting him now. Having fun with him.

Francis smirked to himself. She was interested. "For now."

The teacher re-entered the room with a stack of workbooks under her arm. "Frieda? Talking in class?"

Frieda turned that delicious shade of pink again and stuttered a quick "no." She glared at Francis. He smiled back. This was going to be fun.

* * *

To Francis' great delight, Frieda was sitting with Richie and Virgil when he walked into the cafeteria for lunch. He quickly took the seat next to her, not saying anything. Ignoring her.

Frieda looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Stalking me now?"

"Excuse me?" Francis acted hurt. "You're sitting at my table. Right boys?"

"He did sit with us yesterday." Richie confirmed.

Francis stuck his tongue out at Frieda. "Told ya."

"That'll win you her affection." Virgil quipped.

Frieda looked surprised. She turned to Francis. "Everybody knows you're on this immature quest to get me to go out with you?"

"Yup." Francis was counting the money Helen had given him for lunch, planning out what he was going to eat.

"This doesn't seem ridiculous to anyone else?" Frieda asked.

Richie shrugged. "You could just get it over with and say yes."

Frieda looked from Richie to Francis, who was waggling his eyebrows at her in a lewd manner. "How long are you going to keep this up?"

"Until you say yes." Francis said succinctly.

Frieda stood, taking her lunch with her. There was a determined look in her eye. "We'll just see who gives out first then shall we?"

Francis smirked. "Sounds like a challenge."

"It is. You in?" Frieda held out her hand.

Francis shook it. "You're on."

* * *

Later that day, Francis was in the push-up position in the kiddie end of the pool, roughly breathing in and out through his nose. Bob was towering over him with several weights in his hand, counting out the push-ups.

The kiddie end of the pool, as Francis thought of it, had extremely shallow water. When Francis stood, it touched just above his ankles. When he lowered his body during the push-ups, the front of his body was submerged and he had to arch his neck to keep from getting a mouthful of chlorinated pool water. Every thirty push-ups, Bob would place a weight onto Francis' back, making it harder to lower and then raise himself.

The weights were round and flat, weighing about twenty pounds each. There were three stacked on Francis' back.

"118…119…120."

Francis stopped, taking deep breaths, arms shaking. Bob placed another weight onto his back. Francis struggled through push-up number 121 and then his arms gave out. He rolled over onto his side, dislodging the weights.

"Not bad." Bob picked up a clipboard and marked the number onto a chart. "You beat last week's high."

Francis lay on his back, eyes closed. His chest was heaving rapidly as he tried to get his breath back. The water was high enough to submerge his arms and legs; only his face and chest were above the water.

"Let's see if you can't beat 121 next week." Bob said, putting the clipboard away and hauling Francis into a sitting position.

The teenaged pyro leaned against the edge of the pool, running a hand over his face. "When can I start using my powers?" He gasped.

Bob frowned. "Not yet."

Francis looked up at the Super, rivulets of water streaming down his face. "When?"

"I don't know."

Francis slapped the water. "Shit." He ducked the swat that came his way; it was practically second nature now. "I know, no swearing." Francis got to his feet and stepped out of the pool. "It slipped out."

Bob handed him a towel. "It's getting late. You'd better get started on your homework."

"Yeah, okay." Francis slung the towel over his shoulder and left the pool area, stretching his arms as he walked.

* * *

Francis spotted Frieda walking towards the school in a flock of girls before the first bell. He tossed his helmet and keys to Violet to lock up, scooped his backpack out of the under seat compartment and ran after the gaggle of girls. He caught up to them at the steps.

"Hey Frieda." Francis smiled, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and running a hand through his hair.

Frieda's friends burst into laughter at the sight of Francis. That had been happening a lot lately. It wasn't mean laughter; they were simply amused by him.

"Wanna go to Homecoming with me?" Francis asked, as usual.

"Nope." Frieda returned his smile. Francis stepped ahead of Frieda to open the doors, bowing slightly as the girls passed him. More giggles erupted. He hurried to catch up with the group.

"Please?"

Frieda shook her head. "No."

"Aw c'mon Frieda." One of the girls, a blonde, said. She smiled coyly at Francis. "Throw the boy a bone."

"Hear that?" Francis took Frieda's bag from her hands, walking alongside the object of his affection. "I'm getting support."

"Still no." Frieda laughed.

"Girl, come to your senses." A brunette walked to the other side of Francis and linked arms with him. "I'd say yes." She whispered conspiratorially to him. Francis smirked. He was enjoying the attention.

Frieda rolled her eyes. "It's about principle at this point." She took her bag back, making a point of avoiding eye contact with Francis.

The girls moved past Francis, some casting sad little looks back at him. Francis stood in the middle of the hallway. "See you in Spanish!" He called at Frieda's retreating back.

She waved over her shoulder.

Francis sighed and turned to his locker. Virgil walked up behind him. "So? How's the courting going?"

"Could be better." Francis shrugged.

"Is this how you get all the girls to say yes?"

"No." Francis opened his locker, unzipping his backpack to get some books out. "I don't usually have a problem getting girls to say yes."

Virgil laughed. "I told you you're not going to get her to go out with you."

Francis turned to Virgil with a frown. "Why not?"

Virgil placed a hand on Francis' shoulder with a knowing grin on his face. "Dude, she's in a lot of my classes. She's smart. She's editor of the school newspaper. She's rich. She's your opposite in almost every way."

Francis knocked Virgil's hand away, slamming his locker shut and turning on the younger teen angrily. "So you're basically calling me dumb and poor? Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Did I stutter?" Virgil shrugged. "Face facts dude. If the roles were reversed, would you go out with you?"

"That doesn't even make sense." Francis muttered in confusion.

"I'm only saying this because as fun as it was seeing you get shot down time after time after time after…"

"Okay, I get it." Francis cut Virgil off.

"It's getting a little sad now." Virgil finished.

Francis considered that. Frieda did dress nice and she was smart, easily the smartest student in their Spanish class. She was always surrounded by people and she was friendly to everyone. She seemed to be involved in everything. But those were the things Francis liked about her. It wasn't just physical attraction. He'd gotten to know her over the last few days and he liked her even more now. But was the feeling mutual?

As far as Francis knew, he was an amusement, something that entertained Frieda and her friends for a little while. Sure the girls joked about accepting his offer, but would they really? The more Francis thought about it the more it seemed they were just messing with him. That made him mad. Maybe Virgil was right. He should just give this up.

Without another word to his fellow Super, Francis turned on his heel and headed for his first class, glowering at anyone who looked at him.

* * *

After school in the parking lot, Francis saw Frieda walking alone. He handed his bag blindly to Violet. "Give me a sec okay?"

Violet noticed where Francis was looking and nodded. "Sure."

"Frieda! Wait up!" Francis jogged over to her.

Frieda stopped and smiled at the boy as he skid to a stop next to her.

"Yes?" She knew what was coming.

"You win."

That was not what she was expecting to hear. "What?"

Francis shrugged. "You win. I'm tired of playing this game. I don't like it."

"O-oh." Frieda was startled; she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "So you don't want to go out with me?"

"No, I do." This was hard. Francis didn't know what to say. "But you clearly don't want to go out with me."

"Francis, I don't want to hurt your feelings…"

Francis stopped her. "You said you didn't want to go out with me because we didn't know each other, so I wanna know if you still want to be friends."

"Yes." Frieda said. "I'd like that."

"Okay, then we're friends." Francis said.

"Okay." Frieda smiled. "See you tomorrow?"

Francis nodded. "Yeah."

They parted ways. Francis rubbed the back of his neck. At least they were something now. They were friends. Maybe, sometime in the future, he could ask again and she'd say yes. Francis smiled. That would be a good day.

He trotted back towards Violet and the bike. "Ready?"

"Yup." She held out his helmet for him. Francis took it and was about to climb onto the motorcycle when a very large shadow eclipsed them both.

"Nice ride."

Francis turned around. A large black teenager wearing a do-rag and baggy clothing stood behind Francis with his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest, flanked by other boys in similar attire. A gang. Francis regarded the crew carefully.

One of the reasons Francis had been excited to come to Dakota was the gang culture, but he had seen little evidence of it at Dakota High School. Apparently standing in front of him now was the only gang represented at the school. They didn't look as though they wanted to welcome him. In fact, they looked like they were ready for a throw down.

Francis found himself stepping between the gang and Violet. "Thanks." He said stiffly.

"You new here?" The large one, the leader, asked.

"Yeah. Transferred." It was so easy to fall into his old habits. When talking to the enemy, be simple. Don't offer more information than was required.

"Where from?"

"Metroville." And when greatly outnumbered, don't provoke. Be cooperative.

"Quite a drive." The leader stepped forward, putting a hand on the back of the bike, uncomfortably close to Violet's behind. She quietly slid off the seat, putting the bike between herself and the gang bangers.

Francis smiled to himself. Good girl. He turned his attention back to the crew.

"Yeah. It's a sweet ride." The leader said, mostly to himself. He looked down at Francis and extended his hand. "Wade."

"Francis." He shook Wade's hand, ignoring the snickers from the crew behind them at his name.

"Francis?" The corner of Wade's mouth quirked up. "Whatever man." He ran a finger over the paint. "How's about letting me and my boys take a spin on it?"

Francis smirked. "Yeah, no."

Wade frowned. "What?"

"No fucking way in hell." Francis clarified.

There were some faint 'oohs' from behind them.

Wade chuckled and shoved Francis. "What if I just took it?"

"I'd break your fucking arm." Francis said simply. His gaze hardened, staring challengingly up at Wade.

"You're a mouthy little fucker aren't you?" Wade chuckled again and then shot forward to grab Francis. The pyro ducked under the outstretched hand and jumped aside. One of the crew wrapped an arm around Francis' neck and before he could wriggle loose, Wade sucker-punched him. Francis jerked free and reared back his arm to deliver a retaliatory shot when he remembered rule number two. No fighting. It was enough to make Francis pause mid-swing.

Wade didn't have any such limitations. He caught Francis with a blow to the chin that knocked the smaller teen down. Francis quickly scrambled to his feet and back to the bike. He couldn't fight. Shit. He was going to get his ass kicked.

"Trouble boys?" An authoritarian voice boomed across the parking lot. It was Principal Duncan on his way to his car.

"No sir." Wade said sweetly.

Duncan looked at Francis. "Stone?"

Francis shook his head, still glaring daggers at Wade.

Violet clutched Francis' arm. "Let's go."

Francis didn't' move. Wade smirked at him. Violet tugged again. "C'mon Francis. Please." He looked at her. There was fear in her eyes. Slowly, Francis nodded.

"See ya around _Francis_." Wade put emphasis on the name, making it an insult. Francis sneered back at him, flipping the larger teen off.

Wade just smirked, grinding his fist into the palm of his hand.

"Francis." Violet nudged him again. Francis slung his leg over the seat and clenched the handlebars until his knuckles turned white, watching Wade and his crew move across the parking lot.

He didn't move again until they were out of sight. Francis grabbed his helmet and jammed it on, flipping the visor down with more force than was necessary before starting the bike.

* * *

Francis steered the bike into the garage and lurched to a stop, leaving a black skid mark behind. He turned the ignition off and leapt from the bike. In one swift movement he had torn the helmet off his head and thrown it as hard as he could at the wall. It left a hole in the drywall. Francis was breathing quickly, as if he'd just run a marathon. Violet sat on the bike, watching him with wide eyes.

"Are you okay?" She asked finally.

"No." Francis ran a hand through his hair, tugging lightly at the strands in frustration. "This…this sucks."

Violet walked over to Francis slowly and put a hand on his arm. He was shaking with suppressed rage. "It was very good of you not to fight back." She said quietly.

"Didn't feel good." Francis ground out.

"Still." Violet went inside, leaving Francis alone in the garage. He looked around. He needed something to hit. Francis noticed the hole and shrugged. If the wall was already trashed…why not? He put his fist through the wall, enlarging the hole. Then again. On the third punch Francis felt something crack but as he withdrew his hand, coated in dust and a little blood, he was smiling. It felt good.

Of course, later that night Bob made Francis plaster over the hole he had made. It was worth it.

* * *

"Mooooom." Violet flopped onto her parents' bed and grabbed a pillow, smothering her whines.

Helen looked up from the mirror and smiled at her daughter. "What is it?"

Violet mumbled something into the pillow.

"You're going to need to address me, not the pillow." Helen ran a comb through her short auburn hair.

"Homecoming is next week and no one's asked me to go." Violet complained. "It sucks that we had to transfer. Nobody at Dakota even knows I exist, again!" Violet kicked the bed like a toddler having a tantrum. "Now I'm not going to even get to wear that cute dress."

Helen sighed, put the comb down, and sat on the edge of the bed. She ran a hand through Violet's hair in a comforting manner. "Oh, I'm sure someone will ask you."

"No Mom." Violet protested, hugging the pillow to her chest. "Everybody who's going already has a date. Nobody's going to ask the new girl who shows up two weeks before the dance!"

Helen considered the problem. "Well. Why don't you ask a boy?"

Violet gasped in horror. "Mom, I can't do that! That screams desperate!"

"You could go with Virgil." Helen suggested. "As friends."

"Oh Mom, that would be so weird. He's like my brother." Violet buried her face in the pillows again. "Besides, he's going in a singles group with his new friend Richie."

"Oh."

"I'm just going to stay home like a giant loser and watch a movie with Jack-Jack or something." Violet moaned.

"You are not a loser." Helen said firmly. "It's awkward going to a new school, I understand that. There are going to be lots of other dances. Don't get so hung up on this one."

"But Mom." Violet whined again. "I really wanna go."

"Could you join a singles group?" Helen asked.

Violet shook her head despondently. "No, I don't know anyone well enough to ask yet and groups are already formed."

"What's Francis doing that night?" Helen asked.

"I dunno." Violet sniffed. "He asked a girl but she said no, a lot."

"She did?" Helen was surprised.

"It was this whole weird thing where they were seeing if Francis could get her to say yes and it didn't work so he gave up." Violet explained. "Besides, he's not really a dance kind of guy."

Helen nodded. "I suppose not." She rubbed Violet's back. "Don't worry. We'll think of something."

* * *

Violet sighed as she looked at the purple dress hanging in her closet. "I am never going to get to wear you." She reached out to touch the dress, lightly running her fingertips over the fabric.

There was a knock at her door. Violet closed her closet. "Yes?"

The door opened and Francis stuck his head into the room. "Can I ask you something?"

Violet shrugged. "Sure?"

Francis opened the door a little wider and stepped into the room, looking over his shoulder as though Bob was going to come barreling down the hall and tackle him for being near his daughter's bedroom.

"So, you're kinda bummed about this dance thing huh?" Francis asked lightly.

"How…who told you that?" Violet asked defensively.

"Nobody." Francis quirked an eyebrow. "Geeze, calm down."

"Oh." Violet sat down on her bed. "Then why do you think I'm upset about Homecoming?"

Francis rubbed the back of his neck. "You made such a big deal out of that dress and you've been moping around so I guess nobody asked you."

"Thanks for rubbing it in." Violet snapped, crossing her arms.

"I didn't mean it like that." Francis sighed. "You're making this hard."

"Making what hard?" Violet asked.

Francis suppressed his grin. Oh, the dirty things he could have said at that moment. He fought the urge. "I'm trying to ask if you want to go to the stupid dance with me."

"You are?" Violet asked, mouth agape in surprise.

"Well, yeah." Francis said sheepishly.

"Why?"

"Well, you wanna go and I wanna go and it would be lame to go alone so…do you want to?"

Violet frowned. "This is a serious offer?"

Francis furrowed his brow in confusion. "Yeah."

"You could ask any girl. I'm sure there are plenty who want to go with you." Violet countered.

Francis shrugged. "Well, the one I wanted to go with said no, and I don't really want to go with anyone else." He looked at Violet.

"Gee, that makes me feel special." Violet quipped.

Francis frowned. "If you don't wanna go just say no."

Violet didn't say anything. Francis threw his hands in the air. "Fine." He turned to leave.

"Wait."

Francis looked over his shoulder.

"I want to go with you." Violet said softly.

"Okay." Francis smiled and left the room.

Violet exhaled and then grinned. She was going to Homecoming! She pulled her pillow to her chest, giggling with glee.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Nothing much to say. Just wanted to introduce Wade. Next chapter is the dance. Now go watch Glee.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	8. Chapter 8: Dance

Disclaimer: I do not Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Eight: Dance**

"So let me get this straight." Virgil said slowly. "You're taking Violet to the dance?"

Francis was flicking rapidly through the TV channels, ignoring Virgil. Dash was sitting on the couch beside the pyro, shaking his head at every channel. Francis was waiting for a nod.

"Yup." Francis said idly. Dash nodded his head enthusiastically. Francis took his thumb off the remote. The TV came to a rest on some loud, colorful cartoon. Dash bounced up and down the couch excitedly. "Hell no." Francis resumed skimming through channels.

"Aww." Dash whined.

"Language." Virgil reminded him.

Francis looked over his shoulder. The three were alone in the living room. "Do you see the adult? I don't."

Virgil frowned. "Why are you going with Violet?"

"Yeah, why?" Dash piped up. "She's a loser."

"No she's not." Virgil said quickly, giving Dash a disapproving look.

"If you're afraid I'm playing her, don't be." Francis said gruffly, dropping the remote onto the table. A sports program flickered across the screen. He reached for his can of pop.

Virgil zapped the can into his own hand, getting Francis' attention. "You're gonna have to forgive me for not being so trustful."

Francis scowled at the other teen. "I know you think I'm an idiot but I'm not dumb enough to mess with Mr. Incredible's daughter." Francis clapped his hands over Dash's ears. "I'm actually trying not to fuck things up right now." He removed his hands. Dash smiled up at Francis.

Virgil handed the can over. "Fair enough I guess."

Francis popped the tab. Virgil shrugged. "I'd hate to be you if you did hurt her."

"Yeah, Dad would break your arm…or your leg." Dash jumped up and down on the couch. "Or both!"

Francis sank into the cushion, frowning at the TV. "Gee thanks guys."

* * *

It was the best feeling, walking through the hallways and watching the students subconsciously step from his path. Francis smirked. He had yet to do anything wrong at this school, but word had gotten around about his near fight with Wade in the parking lot, and people were either giving him a wide berth or encouraging grins. Wade did not have many friends here. The students were sick and tired of his bullying and underhanded criminal behavior. Nobody had ever had the courage to stand up to him before, and now Francis had. This new level of respect felt good. He might have to be the bigger man more often.

Virgil, Violet, and Francis had been attending Dakota High School for a week and half now and were getting used to the new schedule and new surroundings. They had gotten their morning routine perfected to the second. Francis knew just when to leave the house to avoid morning traffic and Virgil had found a secluded spot around the corner from the school that was safe to change in and out of uniform in.

Even better? Bob was cutting Francis' training sessions back by an hour every day so he had time to do his homework. Unfortunately Helen made him do it at the kitchen table, so she could make sure he actually did the work. That wasn't so great. Especially when Virgil would walk in and promptly correct about half of his math problems. That just made Francis feel stupid.

Bob hadn't said anything about him taking Violet to Homecoming yet. It made the encounters between the two stubborn Supers very tense. Francis was sure some intimidating speech was coming his way, he just didn't know when. The dance was in three days. Bob was sure to corner him sometime.

The final bell of the day rang and Francis sighed with relief, heading for his locker. He had skipped out of gym class a couple of minutes early to get a head start to the bike. He wanted to get home fast today. Francis pulled up short. Home? Had he just thought of the Sanctum as home? He shook his head to clear this mind.

There was a commotion from behind him. Francis turned. Some students were scurrying in the opposite direction while others were crowding closer to get a better look. Francis pushed through the rabble to see what was going on.

Wade had Virgil pinned up against the lockers with one hand, the other clenched into a fist at his side. Two guys from Wade's crew were restraining Richie.

Francis frowned and shoved to the front of the onlookers.

"Did I hear right nerd? I asked you to do a little favor for me and you're saying no?" Wade growled.

Virgil struggled in Wade's grip but didn't look too concerned. He stared back at the much larger boy. "Yeah, I said no. I'm not going to do your project for you. Do it yourself."

Wade relaxed his grip a little, smiling at Virgil. The grin sent a shiver up Francis' spine. He slipped his backpack off.

"I don't think you're understanding me. I could make things real easy for you." Wade said, smoothing Virgil's collar. "Or I could make them real tough."

Virgil brushed Wade's hand away. "Thanks but no thanks."

The smile vanished from Wade's face. He looked back at his crew; they were all smirking dangerously and nudging each other. Wade looked back at Virgil and shrugged. "Final answer?"

Virgil nodded.

Wade reared back his arm, fist cocked. Francis stepped into the circle and whistled to get Wade's attention. The gang leader looked up at the noise. Francis smirked and waved at him.

"Hey." He nodded at Virgil. "Hands off the nerd."

Wade looked from Virgil to Francis. "Excuse me?" He chuckled a little. "What does this have to do with you, _Francis_?"

Francis crossed his arms defiantly. "That's my nerd."

Again, Wade laughed. "You Metroville trash stick together huh?" He released Virgil and turned on Francis, looming menacingly large over the shorter teen. Francis raised an eyebrow, unimpressed at the size difference.

"Sure." Francis said lightly, ignoring the insult. He was the one baiting Wade. It was working too. Wade was obviously used to some sort of reaction out of his victims. He didn't like that he wasn't getting one from Francis. He stepped closer. Francis stepped away; his back was now pressed against the lockers on the opposite side of the hall.

Wade smirked and closed the distance between the two. Francis hadn't moved his arms; they were still crossed lightly over his chest. His face was expressionless save for a teasing little smile. He wasn't giving anything away. The hall was quiet, watching the encounter with wide eyes.

Francis scanned the crowd and found Frieda on the periphery of the crowd, looking on in worry.

Wade noticed Francis' gaze shift off of him and took the advantage. He swung his fist at Francis' face as hard as he could.

Francis saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and ducked. Wade's fist whistled past his ear and into the steel locker behind him.

Francis heard the crack of bone against metal and winced, dancing tauntingly away from Wade.

The force behind the punch left a fist-sized dent in the locker. Wade pulled his hand to his chest, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Someone in the crowd whooped in approval.

Francis grinned and then felt a very heavy hand land on his shoulder. He looked up. Principal Duncan glared down at him. Francis rolled his eyes. "Aw shit."

* * *

Francis kicked the chair next to him, frowning at the secretary. Wade was in the office with Duncan, telling his side of the story. No doubt spewing every lie that could come into that big head.

This was bullshit. He hadn't done anything wrong! He'd goaded Wade into throwing that punch. It's not his fault the other banger lacked the reflex time Francis had or that his bones were apparently made of glass. Francis smirked at that image. Oh yeah. Wade's hand was definitely smashed to bits in several places and he had only himself to blame. Life was sweet.

Then Francis remembered he was sitting in the office looking at a possible suspension for fighting in the hallways. If Wade spun his story he could be facing potential assault charges. If Duncan called his guardians, and Francis was sure he would, he was doubly screwed. Rule number two. Francis sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

The door to Duncan's office opened and Wade emerged, cradling his hand. He glared at Francis and walked from the room.

"Stone." Duncan called.

Francis got to his feet and trudged into the office. Duncan motioned to the seat across from his own. Francis slouched into it.

"I thought I told you I never wanted to see you in this office again." Duncan said sternly. He was frowning.

Francis shrugged. "It's not my fault y'know."

"That's not what Roberts was saying." Duncan jotted something down on the paper pad in front of him. Francis craned his neck to get a look at the scribblings. It looked like Wade's testimonial.

"He's lying."

"Roberts stated that you attacked him in the hallway and broke his hand." Duncan said, tucking the pad away, out of sight.

Francis shook his head. "I didn't touch him." Duncan didn't look convinced. "Seriously. I didn't lay a hand on him." If Francis hadn't actually touched Wade, did that count as fighting?

Duncan sighed. "It seems you two have very drastic ideas about what happened in my hallway."

There was a knock on the door. Francis and Duncan looked up. Virgil was standing in the doorway. "Mr. Duncan?" The teen said tentatively, stepping into the office.

"Yes? Virgil isn't it?" Duncan gestured for Virgil to come in and shut the door.

"Yeah. I wanted to tell you what really happened." Virgil said.

"Oh?" Duncan was intrigued.

"Francis didn't even touch Wade. I saw the whole thing. Wade was picking on me, asking me to do something for him. When I said no he got made and was about to hit me when Francis stepped in. Wade threw a punch at Francis but he ducked and Wade hit the locker instead." Virgil explained. "Francis didn't do anything wrong."

Duncan looked at the two boys. They stared back. "Are sure?"

Virgil nodded. "Of course. There are a lot of other witnesses I can go get if you think I'm biased. Frieda Goren is outside."

"Frieda? She's one of the best students in the school." Duncan muttered to himself.

"She's ready to testify on Francis' behalf." Virgil said.

"No, no." Duncan smiled. "That won't be necessary. I believe you Virgil." He looked at Francis. "You're free to go."

Francis rose from his chair with a grin. "Great."

"It looks as though Roberts is the one facing a suspension now." Duncan sighed. "What a mess." He walked the two boys to the door. "Thank you for being honest."

Francis shrugged. "Thanks for believing me."

Frieda greeted Francis when he came out of the office with a hug. He pulled away uncomfortably. She didn't seem to mind. "That was very brave of you." Frieda smiled at him.

Francis rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't do it to be brave."

That didn't diminish her smile. Frieda smiled at both boys. "See you guys tomorrow." She turned and walked away.

Francis and Virgil caught up with Violet, who was waiting in the lobby with Richie, and walked out to the parking lot.

"Later." Richie waved and headed down the street.

"I'll start the bike." Violet held out her hand for the keys. Francis dropped the keys into her palm.

"Hey, let's just keep this between us." Francis said.

"No problem." Virgil said. Violet nodded her agreement and then skipped off to the bike.

Francis made to follow her. Virgil stopped him. "What?"

"Thanks."

"For what?" Francis pulled his arm away.

Virgil grinned. "You know."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

* * *

It was the day before the dance. The second Francis pulled into the garage; Violet had scurried into the house saying something about hair and nails. Francis shrugged and locked everything up.

Girls were so weird. He'd asked Helen to get him dress pants and that was that. Actually, Helen had pretty much picked out his entire ensemble for him, which Francis wasn't going to complain about. He'd never done the dance thing before.

Francis walked into his room and threw his backpack onto the bed. The joy of Fridays, not having to worry about homework.

"Let's go." Bob ordered gruffly from the hallway.

Francis shut the door and stripped, slipping into his bathing suit. He grabbed a towel before hurrying after Bob.

Wordlessly, Bob pointed at the pool. Francis jumped in and started his laps. Bob paced the pool beside him, uncharacteristically silent.

After the tenth lap, Francis stopped. That was usually all he did for a warm up these days and then Bob would have him run through various other exercises. Bob shook his head. Francis kicked off from the wall and kept swimming.

He lost count of the laps, although Bob seemed to be keeping a tally on his clipboard. Francis didn't try and stop again. Clearly Bob had something on his mind.

He must have swum fifty laps, without feeling the same gut wrenching, paralyzing effects as he had that first day. Not to say he wasn't tired. Francis just didn't have the urge to go and puke his guts out. Maybe this training was finally starting to pay off a little.

Bob stopped him a few laps after that with a raised hand. Francis attached himself to the side of the pool and looked up at the hero. Bob squatted down to Francis' level and glared at him. Francis stopped himself from recoiling. Oh shit. Speech time.

"Tomorrow night you will be taking my daughter to the school dance." Bob started slowly, a menacing edge to his words.

Francis nodded.

"You will be a perfect gentleman. So help me, if you upset Violet in any way, you will not step foot in this house ever again. You won't want to."

Francis nodded again. This was definitely not the time to talk back.

Bob expression intensified. "I do not want Violet to go with you, but I want her to be happy and she wants to go so it looks like I'm stuck. If I hear anything from either Violet or Virgil about your behavior that I don't like, you will have to answer to me. Do you understand?"

"Yeah." Francis said slowly.

"Good." Bob straightened. "We're done for the day." He turned to leave.

Francis hoisted himself out of the pool. "I'm not going to do anything you know."

Bob looked over his shoulder at the teen. "No, I don't know. That's why I'm worried."

Francis scowled and snatched his towel off the ground. How could he prove to everybody that he was serious about not wanting to screw up? Francis left the pool area, deep in thought.

* * *

That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Francis locked himself in the bathroom. He peered at his reflection in the mirror. The same hard-angled features that he'd looked at everyday stared back at him. Francis knew he was good-looking, enough girls over the years had told him so. He flexed a little in the mirror, satisfied at the way his muscles bulged taut. This swimming routine was good for him.

Francis a hand through his spiked red and blond streaked hair and then down his face, tracing over his jaw line and his goatee. He frowned at his reflection. Okay, he could get why a father wouldn't want his daughter to go out with him. In Metroville, this look had served its purpose. It had been in accordance with gang culture. That was done with now. If Francis wanted to fit in at Dakota and date girls like Frieda, this look wasn't going to work anymore.

Decision made, Francis rummaged around in the drawers until he found what he was looking for.

* * *

"How do I look?" Violet did a twirl for Virgil.

He gave her a thumbs up. "Looking sexy."

Violet flushed a deep red. "Virgil!"

Both teens were dressed for the dance, Violet in her dress and Virgil in black dress pants, a dark blue button-up shirt, and a black tie. Homecoming was a pretty casual dance; suits weren't required for the guys.

Violet's hair was in a bun; she'd fussed over the hairdo for most of the day. Thankfully, she wouldn't have to mess it up with a motorcycle helmet. Lucius had agreed to drive the three teens to Dakota. Their curfew had been extended until one in the morning and they were expected back on the dot. That meant they'd have to leave at midnight, but at least it was something.

"You guys look great!" Lucius commented, walking into the room.

Bob was right behind his best friend. He smiled at Violet. "You look beautiful."

Violet flushed again but smiled. "Thanks Daddy."

"Wait! Everybody wait!" Helen walked into the room with a camera in hand. "Nobody move." Virgil and Violet groaned good-naturedly. They'd been expecting a photo op.

Helen looked around. "Where's Francis?"

"Here. Sorry I'm late." Francis walked into the room smoothing out his tie. He looked up and everybody was staring at him, mouths agape. "What?"

"You…wow." Violet muttered.

Lucius whistled. "Looking good kid."

Francis held out his arms and did a spin. "You think?" His hair was cropped shorter, although still spiky. He couldn't help that, his hair naturally grew straight up. He had also washed the blond streaks out of his hair. The new cut drew attention away from his previously distracting hairstyle and brought it down to his bright green eyes. It made Francis look older and less like a hooligan. He was wearing black dress pants, buckled appropriately, a black button-up shirt, and a red tie.

Helen clapped her hands together excitedly. "You look great! So handsome."

"Thanks." Francis ducked his head so everyone wouldn't see his blush.

"Get over there." Helen prodded Francis into line beside Violet and Virgil. She put the camera to her eye. All three teens grinned. Helen took a few more, then one with just Violet and Francis. Then one with Virgil and Violet.

"Helen, I think that's enough." Bob said with a smile.

"Yeah, we're going to be late." Lucius added.

"Okay, okay." Helen acquiesced. "Go on. Have fun."

* * *

Lucius stuck his head out the window, watching as the kids stepped over the curb. Virgil looked back at his Dad, waving his hand in farewell.

"Call me if you need anything." Lucius said.

Virgil nodded and waved his father away. Lucius started the car and peeled away from the sidewalk.

"See you guys inside." Virgil called to Francis and Violet before running inside to meet up with Richie and the rest of his group.

Francis and Violet looked at each other for a moment, an awkward silence descended between the two of them. Francis stuck his arm out. Violet looked at the arm and then at his face. Francis raised an eyebrow. Violet took the challenge, looping her arm through Francis'. Together, they walked inside.

The gym was hardly recognizable, the decorating committee, headed by Frieda, had done a great job. There were multicolored streamers everywhere, hiding the bleachers and basketball hoops. The lights were dim and spotlights of different colors swept across the hardwood floors. At one end of the gym there were several round tables coated with white tablecloths and surrounded by chairs. Many of these tables were already occupied. There were also several long tables covered with food platters and punch bowls.

There were a few groups lounging against the bleachers, chatting in small numbers. The dance floor at the opposite end of the gym was packed with the sweaty, gyrating bodies of teenagers. There was a DJ on a little stage playing music, catering to the audience's demand. At the moment, the demand was for fast, dizzying music that had everyone dripping sweat as they tried to keep up with the beat.

Francis looked around and smiled. This might not actually be so bad. Violet's grip on his arm tightened. He looked down. She was surveying the gym with nervous apprehension. Francis raised an eyebrow again. She was nervous? Francis looked around for something to do.

"Want to dance?" He asked, shouted really. The music was too loud for normal communication.

Violet shook her head. "Not right now." She yelled back. "Let's just sit down."

Francis nodded. Fine by him. He spotted an empty table and steered Violet to it. He sat her down and went to get them punch before sitting down. She smiled her thanks and sipped at the drink, watching the dancers.

Francis slung an arm over the back of her chair. She didn't seem to mind. He drained his glass and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. It was hot in the gym.

"Hi!" Francis almost jumped as someone shouted in his ear. He spun around and came face to face with Frieda. She looked delighted to see him. She sat down beside him. Francis pulled his eyes away from her body. She was wearing a gold dress that fit her in all the right places.

"Hi." He said back, grinning.

Frieda ruffled Francis' hair. "Looking studly."

Francis laughed. "Thanks." So his makeover had definitely been a good idea.

"Isn't this amazing!" Frieda fanned her face. "I needed a breather. Adam was merciless on the dance floor."

Francis clenched his fists at the mention of Frieda's date. The guy was a straight A honor student with his own convertible and a trust fund.

"The gym looks great." Francis said, nodding at the decorations.

"Thanks!" Frieda put her hand on his arm. He ignored the tingling that shot up his arm. "It took a lot of work."

Frieda looked across the table at Violet. "Hi. I don't believe we've met." She stuck her hand out across Francis. "I'm Frieda."

"I'm Violet." Violet returned the gesture.

Frieda looked from Violet to Francis. "Are you guys here together?"

Francis nodded.

"As friends." Violet quickly added. "We live together and we thought, why not?"

"Oh yeah. You and Virgil. You guys are all from Metroville." She laughed. "It's so funny. You're all from different families but you all live together. That must be so much fun!"

Francis snorted. Violet elbowed him. "You could say that."

"Saves gas anyway." Francis put in.

Frieda laughed. "That's true."

Virgil walked over to the table. "Hey guys." He sat down, a plate of food in hand. He nodded at Frieda. "Hey."

"Hi there." Frieda returned the greeting.

"Aren't you guys going to dance?" Virgil asked.

Francis looked at Violet. "I think we're waiting for a slower number."

Violet nodded her agreement. Francis smiled to himself. So that was it. She wasn't comfortable dancing the fast songs.

"I'm about ready to dance again." Frieda stood up, scanning the room for Adam. "Where did he get to?"

Francis looked around. He didn't see the guy anywhere. "I'll dance with you."

Frieda was startled. "No, I couldn't. You're on a date."

Francis turned to Violet. "Do you mind if I dance a song with Frieda?"

Violet smiled and shook her head. "No. Go ahead."

Francis got to his feet and held a hand out for Frieda to take. She hesitated. "I don't know."

Francis sighed. "Look, it's not a date. It's a dance. A friendly dance."

"Well." Frieda looked intertwined her hand with his. "I guess so."

Francis and Frieda fought their way through the crowd on the dance floor. The music was still upbeat. After a moment, Francis found the rhythm. He was actually a good dancer. Frieda looked surprised, then delighted. She put her hands above her head, swaying her hips hypnotically to the beat. Francis put his hands on her waist, swaying his body alongside her. They were inches from grinding. Francis didn't cross that line. That would not be friendly dancing.

When the song ended, Francis took Frieda's hand again and wove out of the crowd. At the edge of the dance floor, he bowed at the waist. Frieda laughed and swatted his back. "You're such a goof." Francis laughed too.

"Frieda! There you are." Adam walked up to the two, holding a cup of punch in both hands. He offered one to Frieda.

"Adam, this is Francis. Francis, Adam." Frieda introduced the two boys.

They nodded stiffly, sizing the other up. Francis broke the staring contest first. "I better get back to Violet."

"Save another dance for me later?" Frieda asked.

Francis grinned. "Sure."

He found the way back to the table and found Violet where he had left her, although now members of Virgil's group, who were now occupying the table, surrounded her. She was laughing at something Richie was saying. Francis let out a little sigh. He wasn't sure if he had overstepped by leaving her there for a moment. She seemed to be having a good time.

"Hey." Francis grabbed an empty chair from another table and dropped down next to Violet.

"Did you have a nice dance?" She asked, turning from Richie.

"Yup." Francis smirked.

"Bro, you shouldn't give up so easy." Richie said. "I think Frieda's into you."

Francis shrugged. "Who says I've given up?"

Richie looked at him for a moment and then laughed. "You're a weird guy."

"And you're a dork." Francis quipped. "We can't help it."

Richie laughed again. "True."

A slower song finally came on; the dance floor was bathed in a soft blue light. The crowd thinned a little as couples paired off, clinging to each other in tender embraces. Francis looked at Violet. "Ready?"

"Now?" Violet squeaked, looking wide eyed at the dancers.

"C'mon. I'm not gonna bite." Francis got up and offered her his hand like he had to Frieda. Violet took it.

Francis put his hands on Violet's hips, not too low. He was going to let her set the boundaries for this. She put her hands gently onto his broad shoulders, smiling shyly. "Thanks for asking me."

"No problem." Francis said.

Violet looked past Francis at the other couples. A girl was resting her head on the shoulder of her date. Violet copied the position, although Francis was a little too tall. She ended up resting her head against his chest. She could feel the strong muscles flex slightly beneath his shirt at her touch. She liked it.

Francis moved his hands to Violet's back, pulling her a little closer. This was nice. He'd never slow danced like this with a girl, in a completely innocent way.

When the song ended Violet thanked Francis. He didn't let her go back to the table right away. The DJ put on a moderately fast song and Francis made Violet dance to that as well, trying to break her out of her comfort zone. By the end of that song, Violet's bun was a little askew but she was laughing and hanging off Francis, clearly having the time of her life.

* * *

Lucius pulled into the garage and the kids piled out, all very happy with how the evening had gone. Virgil followed his father inside. Francis hung back with Violet.

"Did you have a good time?" Francis asked.

Violet nodded. "Yeah, it was a lot of fun. Thanks for taking me."

Francis shrugged. "My pleasure."

Violet smiled at the older boy and stood on her tiptoes, kissing Francis on the cheek. "Don't worry. My Dad will be getting a good report."

Francis grinned and Violet went inside.

The house was dark and Francis walked to his room silently. There were lights shining under Violet and Virgil's doors as they undressed and got ready for bed. Everyone else seemed to be asleep. Francis opened the door to his room and let out a deep sigh. He was exhausted. He tore the tie from around his neck and kicked his shoes off, shutting the door. Francis stripped down to his boxers and collapsed face first onto his bed, falling asleep in seconds.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Man, still got nothing to say. This is the longest chapter yet, so that's something. The story is progressing as intended and we're going to start getting into the good stuff in the next few chapters.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	9. Chapter 9: Halloween

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredible

**Chapter Nine: Halloween**

The last bell of the day rang and the students of Dakota High School poured out of the classrooms and into the hall, clogging every available space with teenage bodies and teenage voices. Shouting, screaming and laughing at each other. A football flew overhead as two jocks played catch in the congested thoroughfare. Lockers slammed open and shut and papers escaped binders, floating to the ground where they were tread upon until they were crumpled and torn to shreds. Backpacks swung, knocking into students as they filed past, never breaking stride.

Francis thought high school hallways were a lot like highways. There was the fast lane, kids who were speed walking in their anxiousness to get outside. The slow lane consisted of those who walked in groups and meandered at their own casual pace. Veering off to the lockers was like parking. Finding an opening in the traffic and peeling out was like changing lanes. Francis hopped to the side, parking himself at his locker.

He grabbed the books he'd need for homework, made sure he had his keys, and shut the locker, rejoining the traffic. It carried him out the doors and into the parking lot. Francis flipped the keys in his hand, swaggering leisurely to his motorcycle. The students who could drive were flooding the parking lot, walking to their cars and backing out, soon the lot was as congested at the hallways. There was a line of a dozen or so cars waiting for their turn to exit.

Francis straddled the seat, watching. Today had been an exceptionally good day for him. He had gotten an 'A' on his science test. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten an 'A' on anything. Two of Frieda's friends had shamelessly flirted with him through Spanish, which was a bonus. He wasn't going to be celibate just because Frieda didn't want to go out with him. Francis had needs. The icing on the cake was that the Parrs were finally giving the kids some free time after school now that they had made friends and were being invited to things. As far as Francis was concerned, the more time spent outside of that house the better.

"Francis!" Violet waved over the heads of students still streaming through the parked cars. Francis nodded at her.

He caught sight of Richie's platinum blond head next to Virgil's dreads and shook his head in wonderment. How could two guys who had known each other for a few weeks be such natural best friends? Francis was a little jealous. He'd never connected with another guy like that. He had friends, sure, but he'd never had a best friend. He wondered if he was missing something.

Violet made her way to the bike, letting out a deep breath. "It's like a jungle out there." Francis nodded. Violet leaned against the bike. Francis braced it with his feet, making sure it didn't tip over. "We're never going to get out of here." She sighed, looking at the backup.

That was true. They'd just have to sit and wait for a couple of minutes. Francis leaned back, closing his eyes. He liked the feel of the sun on his face. Its warmth reminded him of his powers. His brow furrowed. When was he going to get to use his powers? He missed them.

"Hey guys." Francis opened one eye. Richie and Virgil had joined them.

"Hey." Violet returned the greeting.

Richie adjusted his backpack. "So next weekend there's going to be a Halloween party at the community center. A lot of people are going. Do you think you guys will be able to make it?"

Violet and Virgil exchanged looks. "Dunno bro." Virgil shrugged.

"Yeah, we'd have to ask our parents. But I think it will be okay." Violet said.

Richie grinned. "Great. It's a costume party, just so you know."

"Sounds like fun." Virgil said.

Richie looked at Francis, still lounging on the bike. "What about you?"

Francis raised his hand and gave the bespectacled blond a thumbs up. Richie smiled. "Hope I'll see you guys there then." He waved and walked away.

"We'd better get going." Violet smacked Francis' knee to get him to sit up. "Traffic's cleared."

Francis rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay."

* * *

"A costume party?" That sounds like fun!" Helen said. "I think that would be okay." She looked at the other two adults. "Bob? Lucius?"

Virgil and Violet turned expectant faces on their fathers, silently pleading. Francis chuckled to himself.

Bob shrugged. "Sounds okay, as long as you all adhere to the curfew."

"I suppose that means I have to drive?" Lucius asked, feigning exasperation. After a pause he smiled. "I guess I could get over it."

"Thanks Pops!" Virgil smiled.

Violet quickly added her thanks as well. The teens got up to leave the kitchen, heading towards their respective bedrooms. Francis caught Virgil's arm before they split ways. Virgil raised an eyebrow at the older boy. "Yes?"

"I need some help with my costume." Francis said conspiratorially, his mouth quirking into a smirk.

* * *

Dash leaped onto the couch, spring-boarding over the coffee table, cape streaming behind him. Helen reached a hand out to catch him but Dash sped up, flying under her grasp and blurring around the room at a break neck speed. Helen put her hand on her hips. "Dashiell Parr! If you don't calm down this instant you are not going trick-or-treating!"

Dash skid to a stop, the carpet bunching up under his feet. "Awww Mom. I'm sorry."

"Come here." Helen beckoned Dash over. "I need to finish mending that tear before you go out with your father."

Bob put his newspaper down. He was lounging on his easy chair, feet propped up on the coffee table. He had been unbothered by Dash's antics moments before. "Actually Helen I thought I'd take a pass on following Dash around this year."

Helen looked up. "What?"

"He's old enough to go on his own." Bob explained. "He's only going to be in the neighborhood."

"I don't know." Helen said softly, holding on Dash's pant leg, threading a needle in and out of the fabric. Dash looked from parent to parent. On one hand, he liked personal time with his father. On the other, he wanted to prove he was mature enough to look after himself.

"I can do it Mom. I can." Dash argued.

"I don't feel good about it." Helen said. She tied the thread off and Dash leapt away in delight, examining himself in the mirror. He was a vampire, complete with cape and fangs. Helen had even let him spike his hair up with gel.

"You have to draw blood on." Dash complained.

Helen smiled. "Okay, let me go get the face paint." She left the room.

"C'mere sport." Bob said. Dash hopped up onto the armrest of his father's chair. Bob put his hand on Dash's shoulder. "Do you think you're ready to go it alone tonight?"

Dash nodded. "Sure. No problem."

Bob looked off into the distance, thinking. "Your mom doesn't think so. Maybe she's right. Maybe we should ease you into it."

Dash frowned. He didn't understand where his dad was going with this.

Helen walked back into the room with a little case under her arm. Dash hurried to her and offered his face for her inspection. Helen cracked the case and pulled out a little red crayon. She took Dash's chin with one hand and angled his face in the light. The little boy held as still as he could, giggling as the cool wax slid across his skin. In a few seconds, he had blood dripping from the corners of his mouth. "How's that?" Helen asked.

Dash went to re-inspect himself in the mirror. He liked what he saw. "Awesome." He smiled at his mom.

"Hey guys." Violet walked into the room. "Nice costume Dash."

"Thanks." Dash grinned.

Violet leaned against the doorway. "I was thinking we could leave at around nine. What do you think?"

Helen opened her mouth to reply but Bob beat her to it. "Sounds fine sweetie, but you have to take your brother trick-or-treating first."

Dash and Violet turned to Bob, mouths agape. "What?" Violet managed.

"It's almost seven now, take him around, make sure he gets all the candy he wants, and you should be back in plenty of time." Bob picked up his newspaper and resumed reading, using the paper to hide his smile.

"That's not fair!" Violet protested. "I don't want to take a little baby like him trick-or-treating!"

"Violet!" Helen warned.

"Well I don't want a loser like you to take me!" Dash countered.

"Dash!" Helen scolded. "That is enough, both of you." She looked between her two fuming children. "You will do what your father says and you will have a good time. Is that clear?"

Both kids grumbled and nodded.

"Good." Helen said, appeased.

"C'mon squirt." Violet said after a moment. "Might as well get this over with."

Dash picked up his empty pillowcase to gather candy in and trudged over to his sister, dragging his feet. They turned to leave.

"Take Francis with you." Bob called to their retreating backs.

Violet groaned. Dash pumped his fist in the air. "Francis can come? Cool!"

* * *

"How did I get roped into this again?" Francis asked, standing outside a house with Violet, arms crossed petulantly over his chest.

Violet shrugged. "Don't ask me."

Dash came running back from the house; bulging pillowcase slung over is shoulder. "Can we go to the Peterson's next! Someone said they're giving out King Size candy bars!" Without waiting for the reply of his two teenage chaperones, Dash took off down the street. Francis and Violet hurried to catch up.

"You know, candy's probably not the best thing to give to a kid like him." Francis said.

Violet grinned. "It's not, but Mom rations it. He only gets two pieces a day. One in his lunch and one for dessert. That way it lasts longer and he doesn't get hyper."

"So should we not be letting him do that?" Francis asked, pointing at Dash's figure in the distance. The little boy had torn open two candy bars and was eating them at the same time. Devouring the chocolate within seconds, he started on a lollipop the size of his face.

Violet gasped. "No!" She ran for Dash. "Stop it! Dash!"

Dash looked at his sister and smiled before taking off, leaving only the wrappers behind. Violet's eyes widened. "Oh no."

Francis laughed. "I love that kid."

Violet slapped his arm. "It's not funny. He's all hopped up on sugar and he's using his powers in public!"

"Would you chill?" Francis said. "He's going so fast nobody can see him."

"Then how do you propose we catch him?" Violet said, her hand on her hips in an eerie resemblance to her mother. "Or should I tell my Dad you lost him?"

Francis gulped. "Dash! Get your ass over here!" The boy did not materialize. Francis ran up the street. "Dash!"

Violet followed. "What do we do?"

"I don't know." Francis' eyes flickered over the street, searching for the speedster. "Shit I'm going to be in so much trouble."

"What if someone sees him using his powers?" Violet gasped, a hand flying to her chest in horror. "Our secret identities are everything! I don't even want to think about that."

Francis put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "He's hyped up, he's not stupid."

A breeze blew by them at an extraordinary pace, spinning the two teens around like tops. Francis fell to all fours and shook his head to get his bearings back. "The hell was that?"

"Dash." Violet growled. "This isn't funny."

Francis thought back over the neighborhood's layout. Dash wouldn't leave the neighborhood; he had been warned numerous times by his parents. Chances were he was just having fun with his appointed babysitters. There was one road that looped around the neighborhood and exited out into a main road at some point. If Dash was running laps around the neighborhood, he would come flying by again in a few moments.

Francis braced his feet. His muscles were taut, tensed and ready to pounce but he didn't turn around to face the direction he knew Dash would be coming from. "Violet, when I jump, put a force field in front of me." Francis said.

"What? I can't." Violet looked surprised at the suggestion. "Someone will see."

"Just for a second." Francis assured her.

There was a shriek from behind them as the breeze caused by Dash swept by two trick-or-treaters. Francis leapt.

He had timed the jump perfectly. He managed to catch Dash by the ankle. He slowed Dash's momentum just enough for the boy to slam headlong into Violet's force field.

"Ow." Dash sat up, rubbing his forehead. "No fair."

Francis pinned the boy down. "Not cool dude."

"What were you thinking?" Violet asked, disintegrating the force field and looking around anxiously. None of the costumed children or their chaperones seemed aware of the situation. That was good. Dash had been going fast enough not to draw attention and Francis' leap and Violet's subsequent force field had gone unnoticed.

"I was just having some fun." Dash pouted.

"Give me your candy." Violet held out her hand. Dash passed the pillowcase over to his sister.

"Are you mad?" Dash looked up at Francis.

Francis rolled his eyes and got up, hauling the little boy to his feet. "No." He ruffled Dash's hair. "That's something I would do if I could."

Dash beamed, delighted. Violet groaned. "Great. Encourage him." She turned her back on the two boys. "Let's go. Trick-or-treating is over."

"Are you gonna tell Mom and Dad?" Dash asked, worry etched onto his face.

"Depends." Violet said mysteriously, walking away.

"On what?" Dash called to her. Violet didn't answer.

Francis snickered. "C'mon." Dash didn't move. Francis raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Piggyback." Dash ordered.

"What?" Francis was taken aback.

"Please?" Dash pleaded, eyes widening pitifully.

Francis looked around and shuffled his feet. Finally, he squatted down. "Get on."

"Yes!" Dash clambered onto Francis' back, latching his legs around the teen's chest. His little arms settled loosely around Francis' neck.

Francis hooked one arm around Dash's legs and followed after Violet, ignoring the endless stream of chatter flowing from Dash's mouth. At one point Dash settled his chin on Francis' shoulder. The pyro smiled.

* * *

"You guys are going to be late!" Lucius shouted, looking at his watch. "By the time you get there it's going to be time to leave."

"Chill Pops." Virgil sauntered into the room, adjusting the brim of his cowboy hat. He hooked one of his thumbs into the waistband of his breeches and made a gun out of his fingers, shooting a round at his father. "Got all the time in the world."

Lucius laughed. "Looking snazzy V."

"Thanks." Virgil grinned. "I was going to go as Static, but Helen vetoed that."

Lucius clapped a hand onto Virgil's shoulder. "That's probably for the best."

"Wow!" Dash looked over the back of the couch, now clad in pajamas. He was watching some TV before he was sent to bed. "Cool costume."

"Thanks." Virgil said again. "Where's everybody?"

"Helen's manning the door for trick-or-treaters." Lucius counted on his fingers. "Bob was getting a drink last I saw." Bob walked into the room, holding a can of beer aloft. "Yep, getting a drink. As for Violet and Francis." Lucius shrugged. "I assume getting ready for the party."

Violet huffed into the room, glaring behind her. "Francis is taking forever in the bathroom." She complained.

Virgil snickered when he saw her. "Nice."

"You think?" Violet smiled. She was a bumblebee, complete with antennae, stinger, and wings.

"Oh honey!" Helen walked into the room. "That is so cute!"

Violet beamed. She'd put a lot of thought into her costume.

"Are you losers ready yet?" Francis called from the hallway.

"You're the last one you idiot." Violet called back.

"What's your costume Francis?" Helen asked, sitting on the couch next to Dash. Jack-Jack had been put to bed and was sleeping soundly, judging by the little snores coming from the ever-present baby monitor she had strapped to her waist. Time to kick back and relax.

Francis walked into the living room and smiled. Everyone stopped what they were doing, mouths dropping open in astonishment. Bob choked on his beer.

"So?" Francis asked, his smiled turning into a smirk.

"Oh my god." Violet covered her mouth and started convulsing with laughter. Lucius and Helen were not far behind. Virgil and Francis nodded knowingly. It had taken a combined effort to get Francis' costume ready.

He was dressed in a replica of the old black and blue Mr. Incredible uniform, from back before the Superhero Protection Program, complete with mask. Francis had bleached his hair blond to be as convincing as possible.

Dash burst into giggles on the couch.

Francis struck a pose in the doorway, putting his fists on his hips and looking into the distance, flashing a toothy grin.

Bob's expression was priceless. "Wha…?"

"Fear not citizens!" Francis held a hand out. "Mr. Incredible is here!" The room erupted into fits of laughter.

Dash jumped up and down on the couch, attracting Francis' attention. "Halt rapscallion!" Francis boomed in a voice deeper than his usual tone. Delighted to be included in the act, Dash jumped down and raced across the coffee table. Francis leapt over the couch and caught Dash around the waist with one arm, slinging the boy over his shoulder. "Another evil doer subdued by the fantastic Mr. Incredible." Francis turned to the room and smiled toothily at them again.

Lucius leaned against the wall, holding his stomach. "Stop…oh…stop. That's too much." He had tears of mirth on his cheeks.

"Ha ha." Bob muttered. "Real funny."

"Oh don't be a poor sport." Helen chided him, wiping tears from her eyes. "That's clever and you know it."

Bob pouted and crossed his arms.

Francis put Dash down. "We must depart now, or those dastardly villains in Dakota will have consumed all the merriment." He pounded a fist into his hand. "Those fiends!" Without another word Francis took off down the hallway for the garage. Violet, Virgil, and Lucius followed after him, still choking on laughter.

Turns out, Francis can be downright hilarious when he wants to be. He didn't break character all night and had the party in stitches the entire time. Francis insisted on striking heroic poses at the most awkward moments and tackling "evil doers" whenever the urge seized him. Usually the "evil doer" was some guy talking to a cute girl, who Francis wanted to talk to. Surprisingly, this method was very effective. Francis had gotten quite acquainted with the broom closet in the short time he'd been at the party. He thought he might have to wear spandex more often. It really showed off his guns.

Frieda had even asked him to dance, which was awesome.

The best part of the night? The look on Bob's face when Francis had walked into the living room looking like his younger self. He got to poke fun at the cantankerous Super and he wasn't even going to get in trouble for it. Score.

All in all, Halloween was Francis' new favorite holiday.

* * *

Francis put the bar back on the rack, chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to get his breath back. For a change of pace, Bob had him lifting in the weight room today.

He sat up a little, adjusting the weight lifting belt around his waist. Bob was insisting on all kinds of safety equipment Francis had never used before, including weight lifting gloves. Francis had never used gloves before and had a harder time finding a comfortable grip on the bar.

"Couple more reps." Bob said. He was spotting the teenager.

Francis wiped a beat of sweat out of his eyes and gripped the bar again. There was a sweat stain on the front of his muscle shirt, he'd been lifting weights for hours and it was showing. Fatigue was setting in. There were 200 pounds of weight on the bar. Nothing Francis couldn't handle.

He lifted the bar and raised it, stretching his arms to full extension, and then brought the bar down to his chest, exhaling as he did so. He did this ten more times and then put the bar back down on the rack and sat up, gasping for air. Francis shook his arms out.

"Not bad." Bob commented, making a notation on his chart. "You've got good strength."

"Thanks." Francis grabbed his water bottle off the floor and squirted liquid into his mouth. It was some protein drink Bob had invented and was now making Francis drink. It tasted awful but Francis didn't want to argue about it. Not worth it.

"We're going to start on the leg press and cable machine and then call it a day." Bob said.

Francis nodded and got up to switch machines. He lay down on the bench, putting his feet up to the bar, bending his knees.

Bob started putting weights on the bar. Francis knew he would increase the weight at intervals, depending on how well Francis was doing. Bob never gave him more than he could handle, testing his limits without crossing into recklessness.

Francis frowned as a thought occurred to him. "Hey. I've been here for almost two months now and you still haven't let me use my powers. When are you actually gonna start training me in that?"

Bob continued putting weights on the machine. "Don't know." He grunted after a very long pause.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Francis asked. "That's why I'm here. Remember?"

"This is training." Bob nodded to the machine.

Francis' frown deepened. "Not the kind I expected, or the kind I need. I've lifted weights before. No one's ever bothered to help me with my actual powers."

Bob didn't answer.

"Are you just messing with me?" Francis asked, voice rising. He felt his latent rage bubbling to the surface and he didn't check himself. Let it come. He wanted to yell.

"Do ten reps for starters." Bob said, ignoring Francis' question.

"No." Francis swung his legs over the bench, sitting up. "No way. Not until you tell me when I can use my powers."

"Do the reps." Bob growled.

"No." Francis stood up.

"You want an answer that badly?" Bob asked, stepping closer to Francis.

The pyro nodded. "Yeah."

"Never."

Francis' eyes widened. "What?"

"I am never going to let you light up in my house. I do not trust you and I do not want to give you the power." Bob explained.

"That's not fair!" Francis shouted.

"Too bad."

"How am I supposed to learn how to use my powers?" Francis was arguing logic now to try and persuade Bob, a little fear creeping into his voice. Never? He had not expected that answer.

"You're not. Dicker doesn't want you using your powers either. You're too much of a liability." Bob started gathering his things, turning his back on Francis.

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Francis asked.

Bob whirled around. "Do not swear at me. Go to your room. You're grounded."

"What!" Francis shouted. "You can't do that! How am I a liability? I'm a liability not knowing how to use my fucking powers. Teach me and I won't be."

"I'm not discussing this. Go."

Francis clenched his fists and forced himself not to strike the older Super. He'd only get his ass kicked. Or sent away. Neither seemed appealing. "Fine." He stalked from the room.

Bob watched the teen go and sighed, running a hand over his face. He couldn't teach the kid how to use his powers. Not after reading his file. It would be too dangerous.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

You guys all know the suit I'm talking about right? The one Bob wears at the beginning of the movie when he's chasing Bomb Voyage? That one. How do you like these weekly updates. I'm actually writing ahead so I'm not in any rush. I feel like I'm actually accomplishing something. As I type, the next two chapters are done and I'm starting on the next. How's that for efficient?

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	10. Chapter 10: Scapegoat

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Ten: Scapegoat**

"Breakfast!" Helen called, laying plates down on the kitchen table. Within seconds Virgil and Violet were digging into the spread, chatting amicably about classes. Bob walked in a moment later, heading straight for the coffee. He hadn't slept well last night.

Helen poured herself a mug and sat down. There was an empty place where Francis should be. She raised an eyebrow. Probably just running late this morning.

A few more minutes passed and Francis still hadn't emerged. Helen was about to ask Virgil to go get the other boy when Francis entered the kitchen. He had dark circled under his eyes and a scowl on his face. He stalked to the fridge, grabbed an apple, and left just as quickly as he had arrived.

The occupants of the table watched him leave. "What crawled up his butt?" Virgil muttered, draining the last of his orange juice.

Helen shot a look at Bob. He looked down at the table, suddenly becoming very interested in his toast.

The garage door opened and slammed shut. "Is he leaving?" Violet asked. The sounds of a motor rumbling to life echoed down the halls. "Oh shit." Violet leapt up from the table, throwing her backpack over her shoulder and racing for the garage before either parent could scold her for the language.

"I guess I'd better be going too." Virgil said after a moment, confusion in his voice. It almost came out like a question.

Helen nodded and Virgil cleared his plates before leaving. Helen turned on Bob. "What did you do?"

* * *

Francis slid into his seat in Spanish and put his head down on his desk. There were still a couple of minutes until the bell rang. He was tired and mad and sick of Bob. He just wanted to rest in some quiet, dark place.

"Are you okay?" Francis didn't lift his head at the sound of Frieda's voice. He nodded, head still in his arms. "You sure?"

Another nod.

"Okay." Frieda didn't sound convinced.

More students filed in and found their seats and then the bell rang. The teacher started talking, the chalk scraping irritatingly loudly across the blackboard. Francis groaned and lifted his head and got out his notebook, pretending to take notes. Instead he doodled in the margins, maybe drawing a caricature of Bob being eaten by a shark. He stabbed at the paper particularly viciously, squirting ink across the page as faux blood. Francis smirked at his creation.

Frieda kept trying to make eye contact but he avoided her. Francis was thinking about skipping out on the rest of the day so he could go find someplace to sleep.

"I'm going to hand your tests from last week back. If you have any questions you can come see me during my office hours." The teacher scooped up a pile of papers and started moving around the class. Francis closed his notebook and ran a hand over his face, smothering a yawn. He needed to get his shit together.

"Here you go Francis." A test landed on his desk. Francis didn't look up at the teacher, too focused on the big blazing red 'F' next to his name. He groaned. Today was not his day.

"Eeesh." Frieda winced from next to him.

Francis nodded. "Yeah. The thing is, I'm actually doing fine in all my other classes. I've never taken a foreign language though. This stuff sucks."

"Excellent work as always Frieda." The teacher handed her star pupil her test, a giant 'A' accompanied by a gold star emblazing the front page.

"It's doesn't suck." Frieda said, flipping her paper over.

Francis noticed the grade anyway. "Yeah, easy for you to say. You get A's on everything."

"Not everything." Frieda protested.

"Oh yeah?" Francis smirked at her. "When was the last time you failed anything?"

Frieda thought for a moment. "Well, I've never failed. I'm pretty sure I got a 'B' in Bio last year."

Francis put a hand to his heart, feigning shock. "A 'B'! Say it ain't so." He scoffed at Frieda, rolling his eyes. That girl had no reason to complain about anything, ever.

"Shut up." Frieda laughed. "There's nothing wrong with getting good grades." Frieda looked at Francis' test. "Progress reports are coming out soon. If you want, I can tutor you so you can bring up your Spanish grade to match your other classes."

"Really?" Francis asked. "You'd do that?"

Frieda shrugged. "Sure. What are friends for?"

Francis stopped himself from wincing at the word 'friends.' "Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

The bell rang. Frieda gathered her things and smiled at Francis. "I'll text you with a time and place."

"Okay." Francis nodded. He watched her walk out the door and sighed. He crumpled his test and launched it at the garbage can.

* * *

Virgil stared at the blender and then at the ceiling, which was now dripping with pink goo. In a perfect world, that goo would've been a fruit smoothie. Virgil had thought he'd put the lid on tight enough. Apparently not.

If his dad walked in right now, Virgil would have to clean this mess up by himself _and_ he would be grounded. That means he couldn't go the arcade with Richie tomorrow after school. That would suck. Virgil had been saving his quarters. They were going to try and beat the Blaster Wars high score. No, Virgil was going to have to find a way to squirm out of this sticky situation.

The garage door opened and closed and Virgil heard Francis walk in. Helen had sent him to the grocery store. That means he would be coming to the kitchen. Virgil panicked and ran, leaving the mess behind.

Francis walked into the kitchen and stopped short at the sight of the pink mess. It was like a Teletubbie had thrown up all over the place. The ceiling, the table, and parts of the floor and counter were coated with the goopy paste, which looked as though it were rapidly congealing. Francis found a clean spot on the counter and put the grocery bag down. He walked over to the counter and picked up the lid to the blender. Someone was going to be in trouble. Francis smirked and put the lid down.

Somebody cleared his throat behind the red head. Francis turned.

Bob and Helen were standing in the doorway; both had irritated looks on their faces. Francis' face fell. Oh shit. He was the one in trouble.

Two hours later, Francis was on his hands and knees, scraping the dried pink disaster off the tiles. This was not fair. They hadn't even let him try to explain. Whatever. Francis grunted, chipping away at the goop. He'd already cleaned the table and counter. He was almost done with the floor. He wasn't sure how he was going to get to the ceiling. Francis sat back on his haunches and ran his forearm across his temple, wiping away beads of sweat. Francis tackled the spot with the sponge next, scrubbing away the last pink smudge. Only a million more smudges to go. Francis tossed the sponge into the bucket of pink-colored water beside him.

"Hey." Francis looked up. Virgil was in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot nervously. He looked around the kitchen. "What a mess."

Francis didn't answer.

"Look, about this…"

"What? You did it and you're letting me take the fall?" Francis grumbled.

Virgil's eye widened. "Wha…?"

"Dude, I saw you run out of the kitchen like your ass was on fire. I know you did it." Francis said, standing up and stretching his back. It popped loudly as his muscles extended.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Virgil asked.

Francis shrugged. "Dunno. I'm already grounded. Doesn't really matter."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "You're grounded? What did you do?"

"Got in a fight with Bob." Francis said simply.

Virgil snickered. "But you guys fight all the time."

"This was different." Francis explained. He turned back to his work. "I gotta get this stuff cleaned up by dinner so…"

"Let me help." Virgil reached around Francis and took the sponge from his hand. "You finish the floor and I'll get the ceiling."

"How?" Francis asked, craning his neck up to look at the mess.

Virgil reached into his pocket and pulled out his disc. With a flick of his wrist it had popped into shape. Virgil magnetized it into the air and hopped onto the thin metal sheet. "Easy."

Francis smirked. "Okay. Go ahead."

The two boys worked for the next hour but it paid off. The kitchen was spotless and so was Virgil's conscience.

* * *

"Hey. I'll see you guys in a couple of hours." Virgil said, waving at Francis and Violet as he and Richie headed off into downtown Dakota.

"Bye." Violet waved back. As soon as Virgil was out of sight she whirled around to face Francis.

He jumped in surprise. "What?"

"I need a favor." Violet said.

"Why?" Francis cocked an eyebrow at her.

She swatted his arm. "I'm serious. Frieda asked me to go shopping with her and some girls this afternoon. I really want to make friends with her. I'm tired of not having anyone to talk to."

"You haven't made friends?" Francis asked.

Violet huffed. "Sort of. But they never ask me to go anywhere. I can't pass this up. Besides, Frieda's really nice and I promised I'd go."

"So go." Francis said, waving her away.

Violet shook her head. "It's not that simple. If Mom and Dad find out I let you in the house alone…"

"Wait." Francis cut in. "Are you saying I can't be alone? What, they think I'm gonna set the house on fire?"

Violet's stare answered his question.

"That's not fair." Francis grumbled. "I haven't set anything on fire in ages."

"Their rule, not mine." Violet said. "But I'll be back at four. Mom and Dad took Jack-Jack to the doctor and will be back at 4:30. I'll catch a ride back with Virgil so we should have plenty of time."

"This seems unnecessarily elaborate." Francis said.

"Just listen." Violet insisted. "Dash will be home a little before four, if he gets home before I do, tell him I'm in the bathroom or something. Okay?"

Francis nodded. "Sure. But I might just melt something out of spite."

"Don't." Violet said seriously. "You want them to trust you don't you? Here's the first step."

Francis considered it. She was right. "Fine. I'll be a good boy."

"Good." Violet smiled. "Have a nice ride home." Violet flounced away.

Francis shook his head in wonderment. Girls. He turned his attention to his sneakers, reaching down and tying the loose laces. Never ride a motorcycle with loose laces.

"Hey." Francis looked up at the accented voice. There was a Latina girl standing in front of the bike, one hand running appraisingly over the paint. She had long auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail and a pretty, pointed face. She was dressed in a halter-top that showed off her flat stomach and capris. She looked up at him.

Francis smirked. "Hey."

"Nice bike." The girls said.

Francis nodded. "Thanks."

"I always admire a guy who can handle a beast like this." The girl said, her eyes never leaving Francis'.

"It's not a problem." Francis shrugged.

"I'm Teresa." The girl introduced herself.

"Francis."

"I know." The girl smiled. "Everybody knows who you are after that little demonstration against Wade last week." Francis smirked wider. "You got some moves. You ever a Banger?"

"Back in Metroville. I had to quit though." Francis explained.

"Really? Why?" Teresa asked.

"Long story." Francis shrugged.

"I'd like to hear it." Teresa said, her smile becoming a little more predatory. Francis knew that look.

"Wanna go for a ride?" Francis asked, holding out Violet's helmet for the Latina.

Teresa took it wordlessly and climbed expertly onto the seat behind Francis. She pressed against him, her hands encircling his waist and settling low in his lap. She leaned her head against his shoulder.

Francis put his helmet on and slid the visor down. Dash would be back at four. That gave him two hours alone at the house. Francis revved the engine, a gleam in his eyes.

* * *

Teresa backed Francis up against the garage door; her hands and lips were everywhere. Francis fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door open. He finally plunged the key into its hole and jerked the door open; they stumbled backwards, still attached by the lips.

Francis walked backwards, navigating the hallway and kicked open the door to his room. Once they were inside, Teresa detached herself and sashayed over to the bed, sitting down and staring expectantly up at Francis.

Francis closed the door and launched himself at Teresa. Her ponytail came loose and Francis buried her hands in her auburn mane. Teresa responded by reaching up and intertwining her hands in his short red spikes, forcefully pulling his head down to hers.

Francis' lips left Teresa's and began wandering down to her neck, biting every now and again. He liked the sound Teresa made when his teeth grazed her collarbone.

Teresa's hands went under Francis' shirt, running her fingers along his taut abs and tracing circles around his pecs before gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling up impatiently. Francis ducked his head obediently and Teresa got the shirt off him, flinging it across the room.

Francis plunged his hands under her shirt, pulling it over Teresa's head. He palmed her breasts over her bra and returned to her lips. One of his hands settled between her thighs, pulling them apart. Teresa nipped at Francis' bottom lip and smiled up at him. She hooked one of her legs around his and suddenly she was on top. Francis looked up at her, curious.

Teresa's hands deftly unclasped Francis' belt and tore it from the loops, jerking Francis' hips. She dropped the belt over the side of the bed and then Teresa nimbly undid the zipper of his jeans and pulled, the baggy pants sliding down Francis' legs easily and exposing several inches of his boxers.

Francis smirked at her and flipped them again so he was back on top. They were kissing again, Francis had one hand under Teresa trying to work the clasp to her bra and the other was roving across her stomach and chest. One of her hands was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into his flesh while the other tugged at his waistband.

Francis felt himself getting rock hard and decided to move things along. He moved one of his legs between Teresa's and she bucked her hips against him. Francis smirked against her lips.

A strong hand grabbed Francis by the back of his neck and he was bodily flung across the room. Francis cracked his head on the closet door and winced. Then he gasped.

Bob was glaring, no, that wasn't a strong enough word for what Bob was doing. He was _seething_. He was trembling in rage. Helen was standing aghast in the doorway.

Teresa squeaked and grabbed her shirt, covering herself.

Francis scrambled to his feet, looking at his bedside clock. 3:00. No fair! They weren't supposed to home until 4:30.

"Out." Bob growled at Teresa. She didn't need another invitation. She darted from the room, pulling her shirt on over her head. Francis wondered how she was going to get back to Dakota.

Bob turned on Francis. He gulped, eyes wide and shrank back against the wall. "Look, I'm..."

"Be quiet." Bob said lowly. Francis nodded quickly. "How dare you. How dare you defile my home by bringing that girl here."

"Rule number eight!" Helen hissed at him.

Francis wanted to disappear. Bob pointedly looked down. Francis followed his gaze and reddened. His pants were practically around his ankles and there was a noticeable bulge in his boxers. Francis grabbed his jeans and hurriedly pulled them back up. He looked away in embarrassment.

Bob stepped forward, prepared to give Francis the tongue lashing of a lifetime when Helen charged in front of her husband and marched up to Francis, a furious look on her face. She grabbed him by the chin and forced his face down so they were eye level. "So help me, if you get a girl pregnant I will creep into your room in the middle of the night and cut your balls off. Is that clear?"

Francis stared in wide-eyed horror. Helen shook him. "Is that clear?"

"Y-yes ma'am." Francis managed.

"Good." Helen turned on her heel and strode from the room. Bob and Francis stared after her.

Bob looked at Francis. The teen was half-naked, red-faced, and shaking in fear. "Yeah." Bob added lamely and then left. Really, what more could he add? Threat delivered. He loved his wife.

Francis sank to the floor and hugged his knees. He may not be scared of Bob but he was fucking terrified of Helen.

* * *

"I can't believe you!" Violet raged. "I leave you alone for an hour and you bring some skank over to have sex with? Really?"

"Sorry." Francis grumbled. Why was everyone talking about this? He felt his face redden again. It felt like he had a permanent blush. Curse of the red hair.

"Do you realize I'm in trouble now too? Because I let you go home alone?"

"Sorry okay?" Francis shouted. "I'm sorry!"

Violet crossed her arms, not satisfied. "At least I'm not grounded. Not like you. You'll be lucky if you see the sun again by the time you graduate."

"Thanks for reminding me." Francis flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands.

"Hi guys." Dash walked into the room. He peered over the armrest at Francis. "Why are Mom and Dad so mad at you?"

Francis grunted something and rolled over so his face was buried in the couch cushions. He kicked the floor like a little kid and then was still.

"He did something stupid." Violet supplied. She picked up the remote and started flipping through channels.

"Oh." Dash's curiosity was not abated. "What was it?"

"Nunya." Violet said.

Dash wrinkled his brow in thought. "What's nunya?"

"None ya business." Violet said haughtily.

Dash groaned. "Lame!"

"You fell for it." Violet reminded him.

"What are you doing in here?" Bob asked, walking into the living room. Francis jerked his head up at Bob's voice. "No TV." Bob reminded the teen, lifting him by the shirt over the back of the couch and setting him on his feet. Bob pointed towards Francis' bedroom.

Francis groaned and trudged to his room, hanging his head in misery. He'd almost choose the government center at this point.

His new phone vibrated in his pocket. Helen had gotten him a new one after Bob had crushed his old phone. He flipped it open discreetly. He wasn't allowed phone privileges either.

_Frieda: Tomorrow after school in the library?_

Francis had to remember what she was talking about. Oh yeah, tutoring. He wasn't really in the mood for Spanish, or anything really except crawling into a dark corner and dying.

Then again, would the Parrs let him stay after school for tutoring? How could they say no to that? They were always complaining that his work ethic wasn't strong enough. Francis flipped the phone shut with one hand and pushed open the door to his bedroom. Couldn't hurt asking.

Francis set a reply text.

_maybe, i'll tell u later 4 sure_

Frieda responded almost immediately.

_Frieda: Ok! Just let me know._

Francis smiled. Her texts were so like her. Perky with perfect punctuation.

* * *

Francis approached the topic of tutoring at dinner. The table was silent among the adults but Dash was doing enough talking for the whole table. Every couple of minutes Helen would shoot a glare at Francis over the chicken, clearly she was still upset.

Francis avoided eye contact with everyone and ate as quickly as he could. When he finished, he waited for the others to complete their meals. Dash cleared his plates and left the room, making a beeline for the TV. Violet and Virgil followed. Helen was still feeding Jack-Jack his baby mush but Francis figured now was as good a time as any.

"Umm…I was wondering if I could stay after school tomorrow." Francis said.

Bob, Helen, and Lucius looked at him.

Bob scoffed. "Yeah right. You're grounded. That means you only leave this house for school and you come back right after. And what makes you think you can have any extra privileges after the stunt you pulled today?"

"It's for school." Francis argued. "A friend offered to tutor me."

"Uh huh." Helen said knowingly. "And is this friend a girl?"

"Well." Francis looked down. "Well yeah."

"Great, you alone with a girl. Why wouldn't that be a good idea?" Helen said sarcastically.

Francis reddened. "We'd be in the library." He countered.

"My answer is no." Helen said.

"So is mine." Bob added. He looked across the table at Lucius. "What about you Fro?"

Lucius put his hands up in innocence. "Call me Switzerland."

"You're no help." Bob muttered.

"You're always saying I need to work on my grades and I'm failing Spanish right now so I could actually use the help." Francis said.

"Failing?" Helen asked. "Why are you failing?"

Francis groaned. "That's not the point."

"So what is the point?" Bob asked.

"Look, Frieda's, like, the smartest girl in the whole school. You can ask Virgil or Violet, they know her. She just wants to help and we're only friends. Honest." Francis said.

Lucius looked at Francis. "Is this the same Frieda who turned you down about fifteen times?"

"N-no." Francis stuttered. Virgil had told his dad about that? He'd pummel him later.

Bob laughed. "Yes it is. I like this girl already."

Francis frowned. "Can I stay after or not?"

Bob, Helen, and Lucius all exchanged looks, seemingly having a silent conversation amongst themselves. After a moment they seemed to have settled on an answer.

"Yes, but you have to have your phone on and we may call at any moment and you must answer. And you can only stay for an hour. If you want this to become a weekly thing we can talk about it later." Helen said.

Francis grinned and jumped up from his chair. "Thanks!"

"Only because you're failing. Don't expect any other privileges." Bob added.

Francis nodded and left the kitchen before they could add more stipulations. Back in his room, Francis whipped open his phone, texting an affirmative back to Frieda with a smile on his face.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Alright! I've been waiting to write that scene for a looong time. That was one of the first scenarios I thought of for this story. So hooray! That is also the most risque I have ever gone. I hope that's okay.

Also, allusions to _The Blind Side_ and _Brink!_ Can you find them?

Uh, okay let's get serious for a second. I know Bob has been an ass thus far and that's on purpose. I need him to be an ass as a foil to Francis. Next chapter, that sort of all comes to a head and I'm not sure if I'm crossing a line. I'm kind of nervous about it. Just remember that Bob is ultimately a good guy, he just lets his emotions get the best of him sometimes. Take everything with a grain of a salt, okay? I wanted to say that before the next chapter so you guys know where I'm coming from.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	11. Chapter 11: Breaking Point

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Eleven: Breaking Point**

Francis furrowed his brow, frowning at the book. He threw his pencil down. "I don't get it."

Frieda picked his pencil up and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, leaning over to look at his paper. "Don't get frustrated. Look, you mixed your tenses up. This should be past perfect. Remember? Change this verb," Frieda made the notation, carefully writing around Francis' messy scrawl in her own prim handwriting. "There. That's better."

Francis looked down. That looked right. "But I don't know when to use past perfect." He whined.

Frieda rolled her eyes. "Then ask, stupid." She took Francis' book and flipped it to the right chapter, pointing out the passage on past perfect. "Read that."

"Yes ma'am." Francis said obediently. Frieda smacked him on the arm and went back to completing her own work. "How's that?" Francis asked, nodding at the next example on his paper.

Frieda looked. "That's right! Great. Spanish is all about memorization. If you can remember the verbs and the tenses, you'll be fine. It just requires a little work."

"I hate work." Francis muttered.

"Too bad." Frieda laughed. "We've got a test on Wednesday and you're going to ace it."

"I am?"

"Yes. Otherwise it'll reflect badly on my tutoring skills." Frieda said teasingly.

Francis grinned. "I'd hate to be the blot on your spotless record."

Frieda shoved Francis' shoulder and laughed.

Their good-natured teasing was cut short by the vibration of Francis' cell phone on the wooden table. Francis scooped it up and answered. "Yeah?" He listened for a moment. "Nope, still got all my clothes on." He winked at Frieda. "Okay." Francis hung up and started getting his things together.

"What was that about?" Frieda giggled.

"I gotta get going." Francis explained. "Parrs are cracking down."

"Why?" Frieda asked.

Francis hesitated. He didn't really want to tell Frieda why. A hook-up with some random girl wouldn't win him her affections. "I, uh, broke a house rule."

"Oh." Frieda got her things. "Walk you out?"

"Sure." Francis grinned. The two exited the library together. He looked at the girl sideways as they headed for the parking lot. "You really think I can ace this test?"

Frieda nodded. "Of course."

Francis smiled. "Cool."

* * *

"We're going out." Bob announced, shrugging on his sports jacket. Helen was fixing her makeup in the hall mirror. Apparently every couple of weeks the Parrs had a date night. Ever since they had hit a rough patch in their marriage a few months before, the couple made time for their relationship in order to keep it strong.

Bob looked sharply at Francis. "You are going to do your homework and go to bed."

Francis nodded.

Helen turned from her reflection and smiled at the assembled kids. "Violet's in charge Dash. Do what she says."

Dash groaned and Violet smiled smugly at him.

"Jack-Jack's in bed, but he might get fussy in an hour or two." Helen told Violet.

Her daughter nodded. "Got it."

"Lucius will be back around eleven." Bob said, looking at his watch. "Just keep the house standing until then."

"Don't worry about it Mr. P." Virgil said. "We got things covered."

Bob didn't look convinced. This was the first time they were going out since Francis had arrived.

Violet, noticing the hesitation, took charge of the situation. "Okay guys, have a good night." Violet ushered her parents to the door. "Don't hurry back."

She closed the door behind her parents and sighed before they could protest. All the kids strained to hear the sounds of the car starting and then pulling out of the driveway.

Violet smiled. "They really don't trust us." She looked around the room. "Who wants ice cream?"

Dash jumped up, hand in the air. "Me!" He ran into the kitchen. Violet followed after him.

Virgil went to go after the siblings but Francis caught his arm. "You're coming with me."

"Um, why?" Virgil asked.

Francis looked at the kitchen. No Parrs in sight. "I need to read my file."

Virgil's jaw went slack. "What? But that's on the database. I don't have access to that. Only the adults do."

Francis shook his head. "I know Bob printed it out. Where would he keep something like that?"

Virgil looked over his shoulder and steered Francis out into the hallway where they could have more privacy. "Are you sure you want to do this? You're already in a shitload of trouble."

Francis sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "There's something in that file that I need to know. Everyone treats me like I'm about a second away from exploding and Bob won't let me use my powers because he says Dicker doesn't want me to. I'm pretty sure there's something in my file about me or my powers or something that I don't know about."

Virgil didn't look too confident. "I don't know…"

"Look, it's my file. It's about me. Don't you think I should know what's in there?" Francis asked.

"I guess." Virgil assented.

"Then help me." Francis implored. "Besides, you owe me for that pink shit the other day."

"It was a smoothie." Virgil grumbled.

Francis snorted. "Whatever."

Virgil still hesitated.

"If we get in trouble I'll take the fall." Francis assured him. "I promise." He held out his hand.

Virgil looked at the offered palm and sighed before reaching out and locking hands with the other boy. "Okay. But let's be fast. Ice cream can only distract someone for so long." Virgil took off down the hallway.

"Where're we going?" Francis asked.

"Bob's study."

"Bob has a study?" Francis hadn't really explored the house very well.

"He locks himself in there when he's feeling particularly angsty. He's got all kinds of paperwork filed away. Only the adults are allowed in there though. " Virgil explained as he and Francis crept stealthily down the hallway.

They encountered a thick oaken door with an electronic lock in place of a handle. Virgil put his hand against the wooden surface. "If he's got a printout of your file, it's in here."

"How're we going to get in?" Francis asked, inspecting the lock. He couldn't pick anything that high-tech.

Virgil held one finger up, a crackle of electricity dancing over the digit. "Leave that to me." He went to work on the lock, sending out little bursts of electricity to carefully probe around for the electronic catch mechanism.

Francis smirked appreciatively. "You're more badass than I gave you credit for."

Virgil grinned in response. Almost there. One searching spark found the catch. Virgil pulled back, releasing the lock. A green light flashed and the door cracked open. Virgil pushed it open, stepping into the room. "Piece of cake."

Francis followed Virgil into the room, looking around. The lights clicked on automatically. There were bookshelves all along the walls with one wall devoted entirely to memorabilia. There were newspaper clippings, magazine covers, letters, photos, and many other things all about Mr. Incredible. Francis was drawn to the wall, gaping at the extensive display. It was impressive. In the center of the wall there were a few newer news clippings, he could tell because they weren't yellowed with age. Francis inspected those. They were articles on the Incredible family, showing them fighting the Omnidroid and the Underminer.

"Hey Smoky, over here." Virgil called.

Francis turned around. Virgil was rummaging in Bob's desk. He held up a file marked with a big black _Confidential._

Francis grinned. "Jackpot." He took the file from Virgil and opened it. It was indeed his file. "Was this on top?" Francis asked before he read further.

"Yeah." Virgil said. "It was right in the top drawer."

So Bob had been reading it recently. Francis frowned and turned to the first page. There was the usual stuff, photos and analysis, some intelligence tests, medical reports, and a detailed diagnosis on his powers. Francis skimmed until he got to a psychoanalysis. He jumped over a lot of the big words. He remembered this. Some shrink had come in to the Center a few years after his mom had gone missing and asked him a lot of questions.

One phrase caught his attention.

"_Due to Francis' mental condition, it is not recommended at this time that an extensive training regiment be implemented. Francis exhibits classic supervillain tendencies which should be tempered."_

There was a red stamp at the bottom of the page that blotted out the shrink's signature. _High Risk_.

Francis paused. High Risk? He was high risk? He had supervillain potential? The questions raced through his mind and he stared dumbly at the report.

"What?" Virgil asked curiously. "What does it say?"

Francis passed the file to him wordlessly. Virgil read over the analysis quickly. His face fell as the words registered. "Oh."

"They think I'm going to be a supervillain." Francis growled, fisting one hand in his hair to avoid hitting something.

"That's not fair." Virgil protested. "They can't just decide that."

Francis tore the file from Virgil's hands and threw it back into the desk. "Let's get out of here."

"Dude, don't freak out about this. That report's old."

"Bob's taking it seriously. I bet Helen and your Dad agree." Francis muttered. He nodded at the door. "Let's go."

The door locked behind them. They stood in the hallway outside the study. The two boys stared at each other for a moment. "Don't tell anyone about this." Francis said finally.

"I won't." Virgil assured him.

Francis turned on his heel and went straight to his room. He didn't come out the rest of the night.

* * *

There was little to no privacy in the Sanctum. Francis hated that. He hated that a lot. Thankfully today was a Saturday so he wouldn't have to deal with school. He really was not in the mood for that. He couldn't remember a time when he had been angrier, and that was saying something.

So when Helen burst into his room at eight in the morning Francis was not pleased.

Francis dug himself deeper into the blankets and buried his head under a pillow, ignoring the Parr matriarch. He hoped that maybe she would go away.

No such luck.

"C'mon sleepy head." Helen practically shouted into Francis' ear. He turned his head and groaned.

Helen slapped the covers. "Let's go. Up and at 'em."

Francis didn't move.

Helen frowned and put Jack-Jack down on the bed, nudging her youngest child towards the stubborn teenage boy. Jack-Jack crawled over to Francis and found a lock of his bright red hair, gleefully grabbing it and pulling.

"Ow." Francis muttered, lifting his head and glaring at the baby. The pillow dropped over the side of the bed. Jack-Jack giggled in delight and clapped his hands, not releasing his hold on Francis' hair. "Go away you little monster." Francis grumbled sleepily.

Helen took hold of Francis' comforter with both hands and yanked it off the bed. Francis shivered at the sudden exposure to the cold morning air. He was only wearing boxers and a wife beater.

"Group training day. Everyone's going to be down in HQ all day." Helen explained. "That includes you. Now get up."

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" Francis whined.

Helen frowned. "What wrong?"

Francis sat up, scooping Jack-Jack into his lap and prying the baby's hands open, releasing his vice-like grip. Francis rubbed the abused spot on his head and held Jack-Jack out at arm length for Helen to take back.

"Nothing." He looked away.

Helen took Jack-Jack and frowned suspiciously at Francis.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through his disheveled spikes. "I gotta change." Francis nodded at the door.

Helen took the hint. "Fine. Be down in fifteen minutes."

Francis shut the door behind Helen and Jack-Jack and collapsed face first onto his bed, screaming his frustration into the mattress.

* * *

Having changed into a muscle shirt and basketball shorts, Francis headed for the secret bookcase elevator that led down to the hidden training and intelligence center of the Sanctum.

Francis stepped out into the hallway and looked around, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Usually at the point Bob would jump out and drag him off to do some exhausting exercise. Nobody appeared. Francis looked up and down the hallway. Where was everyone?

"Francis!" Violet called. She had poked her head out a door down the hall. "Over here!"

When Francis walked over, he noticed Violet was standing in the entrance to the Loft's observation deck. "C'mon, everybody's up here." Violet explained and headed up the stairs. Francis followed after.

When they got to the control room, Francis saw Virgil sitting at the monitors and Dash with his face pressed against the glass, watching the action below. Jack-Jack was strapped to a chair that resembled a car seat and was playing with a toy, oblivious to anyone else in the room. Everyone had his or her respective uniforms on.

"What's going on?" Francis asked.

Violet took a seat by the windows and looked down. "Our parents like to start out group training days with a demonstration." She explained.

Francis walked over to the windows and followed Violet's gaze. Down below, the adults were running a training exercise. Obstacles appeared out of the floor, walls, and ceiling and they were busy battling them. Lucius was in the air, throwing out ice to form paths as he skated zigzags around the room. Bob and Helen were handling the ground work.

"They say it's so we can see the proper way to use our powers in a fight situation, but really, they just like showing off." Virgil said from behind Francis.

The adults worked as a seamless team. They seemed to know what their partner was going to do before they did it. Within minutes the obstacles had been decimated and the demonstration ended.

"They're coming up now." Violet said. "Probably for some endless lecture on teamwork."

Francis sat in a swivel chair beside Dash and crossed his arms. It's not the lecture would apply to him. The demonstration didn't mean anything. He was never going to get to put those lessons to the test. They wouldn't let him. Francis growled deep in his throat.

Dash looked up at him. "Francis?"

Francis swiveled away from the little boy's questioning look. He didn't want to deal with anybody in this stupid house right now.

The door opened and the adults filed in, sweaty but exhilarated. "Whoo! What a run!" Lucius said. Virgil handed his father a water bottle to rehydrate.

Helen walked over to Jack-Jack and looked him over before taking a seat on the other side of Dash, smoothing a hand over her son's blond locks.

Bob stood in front of the group, hands on his hips. "So what did you learn?"

"Conserve energy, don't overexert yourself." Virgil said.

"Never lose track of your team members." Violet added.

Bob smiled. "Good. Those are all great answers. Those are things I want you to apply in your training today. As soon as you master fundamentals like that, you guys will be ready for some real field work."

Virgil, Violet, and Dash looked at each in excitement. With the exception of a few early battles, the kids hadn't been allowed to participate in any real fights. They were aching to get their hands on a bad guy.

"Okay, here's how things are going to go today." Helen took charge. "Virgil, Violet, and Dash will be in the Loft while Lucius and I will supervise. Francis, you'll be doing your usual workout with Bob."

Francis scowled.

"You got a problem?" Bob asked, noticing the look on Francis' face.

"Who me?" Francis asked sarcastically. "No, no problem."

Bob frowned. "Seems to me like you've got something to say so why don't you say it?"

Francis shrugged and didn't respond.

After a moment of awkward silence Bob nodded to the other kids. "Why don't you guys get started? Sooner you finish training the sooner you'll be out on the street fighting those supervillains."

Francis brought a fist down onto the arm of his chair. All eyes went back to the pyro. "Supervillains like me right?"

Bob gaped at Francis. Francis didn't have to turn his head to know Lucius and Helen were sporting similar expressions.

"That's it, isn't it? That's why you're not actually training me, just putting me though the paces to make it look like you're teaching me something. You're afraid that in a few years I'm gonna go off the deep end and use all of your training against you." Francis said, staring darkly at the adults. "That's it, right?"

"We…we don't think that." Helen said, exchanging nervous glances with the others.

"Don't lie." Francis growled.

"How do you know that?" Bob asked. He wasn't denying the accusation. That meant it was true. Francis clenched the chair; he felt it melt slightly beneath his grip as he became angrier.

Francis scoffed. "That doesn't matter."

Bob hardened his gaze. "You went into my study." It wasn't a question.

"So what if I did?" Francis sneered. "I wanted answers and you weren't giving me any."

"You had no right." Bob said.

"The hell I don't!" Francis stood angrily, fists clenched at his sides. "It's my life you're talking about! Don't I deserve to know how I'm being manipulated? How I'm being lied to?"

"Maybe you should calm down." Lucius suggested gently.

"I don't wanna calm down!" Francis shouted. "Just stop with the bullshit and tell me straight."

Helen was the one to respond. "There are several mental indicators that the NSA has identified over the years that all or most supervillains exhibit. They have these indicators even as children and the NSA began conducting psychoanalysis on some Super children to see if they could identify and contain supervillains before they turn bad. You exhibited a number of the mental indicators." She looked at Francis. "We were only following the NSA's guideline. You have to understand…"

"No." Francis cut her off. "I don't. I don't get it." He looked around in frustration. "How can you treat a problem that's not even a problem yet?"

"It's called prevention." Bob answered.

"What if it's not a problem? What if somebody has those indicators and isn't a villain?" Francis asked. "There's got to be people like that."

Violet and Virgil glanced at each other anxiously. They had no idea how to handle this situation. Dash looked on in confusion.

"We did what we thought was best, based off your character." Bob explained gruffly.

Francis' jaw tightened. "You decided something about my life I haven't even decided yet. How's that fair?"

"Life's not fair." Bob shrugged.

"Oh." Francis laughed meanly. "Don't worry, you don't have to tell me that. I know." He started for the door. "I'm outta here."

"You're not going anywhere." Bob reached out and grabbed Francis by the upper arm.

Francis pulled but Bob pulled him back into the room. "Why? I'm not gonna learn anything. This whole thing is waste of time."

"We made a promise to Dicker…"

"I don't give a shit about Dicker!" Francis shouted, wrenching his arm out of Bob's grip.

"Guys calm down." Lucius stood up, trying to defuse the situation.

"See." Bob pointed a finger in Francis' face. "That right there. That explosive anger. That's an indicator."

"Because I've got anger issues?" Francis smirked dangerously. "Newsflash asshole, you're a prime subject for explosive anger. I bet you're gonna turn bad any day now."

Fury flashed over Bob's face. "Don't you dare question my character! I've got more character in my pinky toe than you've got in your whole delinquent body." He gestured wildly at Jack-Jack. "He's got more character than you do and he can't even talk!"

"You don't know anything about me." Francis hissed. "You can pretend but you don't."

"Why don't we just…" Helen tried to break in and act the peacemaker. Neither combatant would allow that. They continued to argue over her thin attempts at resolution.

"I have fought hundreds of supervillains and let me tell you, you fit the profile." Bob said.

Francis snorted in derision. "You know, being a supervillain never crossed my mind as a career choice, but now?" Francis raised an eyebrow and smirked tauntingly. "It seems like it might be worth looking into, if only so I can kick your ass."

Bob laughed. "You? Kick my ass? Please little boy, you're out of your league."

Francis fumed, literally shaking with rage. "I want out. Send me away. I don't care. At least at the center people wouldn't be lying to my face. They'd just pretend like I don't exist, and that I'm used to. I hate you, I hate this house, and I hate your whole fucking family."

Bob growled. "Don't talk that way about my family."

"Why not?" Francis asked. "What are you gonna do? Hit me. Go ahead. I dare you, hit me." He offered his chin as a target, folding his arms behind his back. "Go on."

Bob didn't move. His fists clenched.

"Come on, you coward." Francis growled between gritted teeth.

"That's enough." Helen said sternly. "Both of you."

Dash slid off his chair and stood beside Francis, looking up at the older boy. He pulled at Francis' arm, hoping to get his attention.

Without thinking Francis threw his arm back. He didn't know who was behind him; he just wanted to hit something. All of his pent up energy and rage were screaming at him to move and cause damage.

Francis' fist caught Dash across the face and the little boy tumbled backwards, rubbing his cheek. "Owww."

"Dash!" Helen startled.

"Wha…?" Francis turned his head. He'd hit Dash. Oh. He hadn't wanted to do that. That was a mistake, he wouldn't hurt Dash. It was an accident.

Francis turned back to Bob and just barely saw the punch coming out of the corner of his eye.

Bob's fist connected above Francis' right eye. The force of the hit spun the pyro around. He looked blankly at Virgil, Violet, and Lucius' stunned faces for an instant before his eyes rolled back and his legs gave out. Francis crumpled to the floor and didn't move.

"Bob!" Helen screamed again.

"Oh my god." Violet put a hand over her mouth in shock.

Lucius was the first to Francis' side. He checked the boy's vitals. He was breathing fine and his heart rate was regular. He was just unconscious. Thank goodness. Lucius had seen Bob drop many guys over the years with that same punch and he knew it could do some real damage. Anybody who didn't have the super-resistance Bob had always fell after that blow.

Bob stood frozen, his arm still outstretched. "I didn't…that was…"

The skin around Francis' eye was already turning a bright blue.

Dash stood up and stared at Francis' supine form. "Wow."

Lucius took charge. "Virgil, help me get him upstairs." Virgil nodded and knelt on Francis other side. Together, Lucius and Virgil lifted the Francis and headed for the door.

That left the Parrs in the control room. Helen ran her hand over Dash's face, to reassure herself that he was fine. Francis hadn't hit him too hard. It had been more of a glancing blow really. Dash himself didn't seem to remember he had even been hit.

"Violet, take Jack-Jack and Dash upstairs please." Helen said softly.

Violet nodded stiffly and herded her siblings out of the room.

Helen looked at Bob. He had a shocked expression on his face. He looked at his own fist and shook his head. "That was an accident. He hit Dash, I wasn't thinking."

Helen shook her head. "I'm ashamed of you." She walked to the door and stopped before leaving, looking over her shoulder at her husband. "You had better make this right."

Then Bob was all alone.

* * *

Lucius and Virgil lay Francis down on his bed, putting the covers over him and making the boy as comfortable as possible. Helen walked into the bedroom, phone in hand. "I just talked to Doc. He says to Francis will most likely have a concussion. We need to wake him up and check for brain damage every couple of hours."

Lucius nodded. "I figured as much. Bob throws a hard punch."

Helen looked at Virgil. "Why don't you go to your room?" Virgil hurriedly obeyed.

"Bob should know better." Helen said after Virgil had gone, shutting the door behind him. "He knows how strong he is. He should have better control."

Lucius shrugged. "Something about Francis just gets under Bob's skin. Besides, you know how emotional Bob can get. He saw someone threaten his family. I don't think he even consciously knew what he was doing. It was a reaction."

"That is no excuse." Helen sat on the bed beside Francis. She smoothed a stray red lock away from his face. "Francis is just a child, even if he doesn't act like it."

Lucius sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. I think Bob feels awful." He looked at Francis and chuckled. "I'm sure when the kid wakes up he'll feel awful too."

"That's not funny." Helen chided softly.

"Sorry." Lucius wiped the smile off his face. "Do you want me to take the first shift?"

"No, I can watch him for a while." Helen said. "Go make sure the kids are alright. I think they're a bit shocked."

"Sure thing." Lucius left the room.

* * *

A few hours later, Francis was stirred awake and didn't exhibit any signs of brain damage. He was groggy and his speech was slurred, but that was normal for a concussion.

Helen and Lucius took turns sitting with Francis throughout the day. Lucius said he would take the night shift, arguing that he didn't have to go to work tomorrow so he could catch up on sleep during the day.

Lucius woke Francis a couple of more times that night, asking him simple questions like his name and the year. Francis always responded as clearly as he could before collapsing back into a fitful sleep. The bruise around his eye was getting darker and swelling. Lucius found an ice pack and held it against Francis' temple while the boy slept. He was going to have a doozy of a black eye.

Lucius yawned noisily. Morning was creeping in. Almost time to change shifts. Lucius was about to go get Helen when the door to Francis' bedroom creaked open.

Bob stood sheepishly in the doorway, looking into the room. "Hey."

"Hey." Lucius nodded.

"How is he?"

"He's fine." Lucius said. The look of concern on Bob' face didn't diminish. "No really, he's going to have a hell of a headache and the most colorful shiner I've ever seen, but he'll be fine."

"Good." Bob let out a breath. "Could I…?"

Lucius looked at his watch. "It is about time to wake him up again." He stood up and walked over to his best friend and clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly before leaving.

Bob shut the door behind him and crossed the room, pulling the desk chair Lucius had been sitting in over to Francis bedside. He sat and looked at the teen for a moment. In the dim morning light, Francis looked very young. His brow furrowed in his sleep and he tossed restlessly before settling again. Francis' head settled so the bruise was facing Bob. It stood out in sharp contrast against Francis' pale skin. Despite Lucius' efforts with the ice pack, there was some swelling. Francis would have a hard time seeing through his right eye.

Bob sighed and ran a hand over his face. He felt so guilty.

Gently, Bob reached out and shook Francis. The boy didn't stir. Bob put his hand on Francis' chest and shook a little harder, jarring the pyro's body. Slowly, Francis began to waken. He opened one green eye and groaned, a hand flying up to his face where the bruise was and wincing at the pain. Francis turned his head slightly and saw Bob. He didn't say anything, just looked at the adult with sleepy eyes.

"Hi." Bob said awkwardly. He coughed. "Um, there are some things I need to tell you. I know this probably isn't a good time because you may not remember but I've got to say it." He took a deep breath. "What happened yesterday, it was my fault. I should have restrained myself. I let my emotions get the better of me and that was wrong. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"S'okay." Francis murmured groggily. "I know. I was bein' stupid."

Bob shook his head. "No, not entirely. You made some good points. You're a good kid, I know that. I just have trouble seeing it sometimes. I don't think you're going to be a villain. I'm sorry for everything I did and said."

"Okay." Francis said.

Bob chuckled to himself. "You were right about something else too, you and me? We're a lot alike. That means we both do and say stupid things sometimes, even if we don't really mean it. And we're both too stubborn for our own good."

Francis nodded slowly, wincing at the movement. He stared at Bob, looking like a tired child trying to stay awake. "I didn' mean to hit Dash."

"I know." Bob said.

"It was 'n accident." Francis continued. "I didn'…"

"I know, it's okay." Bob put a hand on Francis' arm.

"I'm sorry." Francis apologized. "I actually like it here, most o' the time."

Bob smiled.

"Don' send me away." Francis pleaded quietly. "Please."

"I won't." Bob promised.

"Okay." Francis smiled drowsily, fears put aside. He closed his eyes, drifting back into sleep.

Bob got up to leave and then turned back to the bed. "Francis?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to start training you for real. With powers."

"Okay." Francis mumbled into the pillow.

Bob grinned and left the room. He passed Helen, who was on her way to begin her shift.

Bob pulled her into a hug. Helen wrapped her arms around her husband's bulky frame and smiled into his shoulder.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Whew. Glad that's done with. Seriously, that was draining. Officially the new longest chapter. I used to set my ideal chapter at 3,000 words. This one is about 5,500. That's a lot. For me anyway.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	12. Chapter 12: Edna Mode

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twelve: Edna Mode**

Life moved on for the inhabitants of the Sanctum. The bruise faded from Francis' face over the following weeks, as did the animosity between the pyro and Bob. They had reached a sort of truce. Things were as peaceful within the household as they had been since Francis' arrival.

While Francis recovered from his concussion, Bob cancelled all his training sessions. Francis found himself with free time. It was unheard of. He didn't know what to do with himself. He wasn't used to not being jerked out of bed at ungodly hours and Francis even had trouble falling asleep without his exhaustion to aid him.

Helen had Francis doing some housework, and he didn't mind. Francis did everything that was asked of him without complaint. He didn't enjoy most of the chores, but he complied. He was eager for a second-chance at a first impression.

Two weeks after the "incident," Francis resumed training. It was back to the pool and the weight room, but Francis didn't mind. Bob had set a date over winter break for their first real session so that they would have a couple of days to experiment with his powers due to the vacation. Francis stared at the calendar in the kitchen, getting more anxious as each day passed by.

The day before their break was to begin, Francis and Virgil were walking out of school side-by-side, chatting amicably. Both were dressed warmly. It was getting colder and colder as the days grew shorter. It wasn't uncommon to see snowflakes drifting from the sky these days. Virgil was wearing a coat and gloves and he still shivered when the bitter wind swept over them. Francis smirked. He was wearing a sweatshirt and was perfectly at ease. It took extreme cold to bother him.

"That's not even fair." Virgil muttered, looking enviously over at Francis. "You're not supposed to be using your powers."

"I'm not." Francis said immediately, and then paused. Was he using his powers? He'd never thought about it. Maybe he used his powers subconsciously to heat himself during the winter. That actually made sense. Francis shrugged. "Not like I'm lighting up or anything."

Virgil still grumbled. "I do not want to fly home today." He looked up. The sky was a dark gray, heavy with clouds. It looked like a snowstorm was coming. "Better get going before this opens up."

"You're all exposed up there. Don't you get cold?" Francis asked. They walked towards the parking lot.

Virgil nodded. "Oh yeah, but it's not that bad. The design on my coat allows it to be cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It's pretty cool."

"Yeah?" Francis asked, quirking an eyebrow in interest. They reached the motorcycle. Violet wasn't in sight. Francis would have to wait. He unlocked the bike and flipped the seat compartment open. He stuffed his backpack in and pulled a roll of duct tape out.

Wordlessly, Francis began unwinding a stretch of tape before tearing it with his teeth. He wrapped the tape around the sleeve of his sweatshirt where it met his wrist and around the top of his hand. "What's that for?" Virgil asked

"S'for the wind." Francis mumbled around another mouthful of tape. He wound it around his other hand. "It keeps the sleeves down and the wind from puffing up my shirt. I hate that."

"That's actually kind of smart." Virgil said, impressed. "Or you could just wear a jacket like normal people."

Francis smirked. "What fun is that?" He threw the tape back into the compartment and slapped it shut.

Virgil laughed. "You are so weird."

Francis was going to respond but he cocked his head to the side instead, listening intently. There were faint sirens in the distance. He frowned. They sounded like they were getting closer.

Sure enough, other students heard the sirens fast-approaching and turned to look down the street. A blue sports car barreled towards them, swerving around other cars on the road. Two police cars were in hot pursuit.

There were two men clad in dark colors in the sports car, one had a gun and was leaning out of the passenger side window, aiming at the police behind them. He fired off a round. The windshield on one of the cruisers shattered and the driver veered, nearly hopping the curb.

Students scattered away from the sidewalk as the chase came closer.

One of the police officers in the undamaged car rolled down his window to return fire. He blew out a tire on the sports car with a well-aimed shot. The criminal driving seemed to lose control of the car, fighting with the steering wheel. The car took on a life of its own.

The sports car jumped the curb and mowed down the chain link fence environing Dakota High School's parking lot, crashing through other vehicles. Students screamed and ran. The sports car was headed straight for Virgil and Francis.

On instinct alone, Francis grabbed Virgil by the collar of his coat and threw the younger boy out of the car's path. Francis dove in the other direction. He landed on his side and threw his hand out towards the car, a fireball leaping into existence at his fingertips. The fireball flew under the rampaging car just before it smashed into Francis' bike. The blast launched the sports car into the air.

It came down with the thud of bending metal and breaking glass. The two criminals inside the car scurried away just as fire caught onto the rest of the vehicle. It took only seconds for the flames to find the gas tank and the car exploded in a shower of debris.

Francis covered his head and felt slivers of metal and glass slice the air around his body.

After a few moments, there was silence. Francis lifted his head. The car was a smoldering wreck. The top had been blown clear off and fire licked at the skeleton. Francis searched for Virgil and saw him a few yards away lying over the body of another student. The dread-locked boy lifted his head and locked eyes with Francis. He was okay.

Virgil rolled away from the other student who also appeared unharmed. They stood shakily, looking the other over for injuries, brushing shards of glass off their coats. The student thanked Virgil and stared at the flaming spectacle.

Francis sat up slowly, checking himself. There was a tear in his sweatshirt above his shoulder and a sliver of glass was embedded in his skin. It wasn't too deep. Francis pulled it out, wincing a little. He unwrapped a bit of the duct tape he had previously wound around his wrists and tore off a smaller piece, sticking it over the wound. The pyro got to his feet.

The police were quickly on the scene, herding students away from the remnants of the sports car. One of them ran over to Francis and grabbed the boy by the shoulders, guiding him away from the blaze.

The two criminals were being handcuffed and led away. They seemed dazed.

Francis looked over his shoulder as he walked away. His bike was lying on its side, the paint job a little worse for wear but still in one piece. He smiled.

"...you boys were the closest." One officer was saying. Francis hadn't even realized he was standing next to Virgil. There were two officers in front of them. They looked concerned, not suspicious. Francis let out a breath. They hadn't seen anything.

Virgil shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't see anything. I was just trying to get out of the way."

They all looked at Francis. He shook his head in fake wonderment. "Dunno, the fuel tank must've caught somehow."

The officers nodded. One, wearing sunglasses, smiled and patted Francis and Virgil on the shoulder. Francis hid a wince. "I'm glad you boys are alright. It's probably best if you head home. We've got things under control now."

The two teens nodded and turned to walk away. He heard the two cops conversing behind him. "It's a good thing the car stopped when it did. That thing was heading straight for the school. Who knows how much damage it would have done?"

Francis and Virgil got the bike back on its wheels and rolled it away before anyone could tell them not to. Once they had put a sufficient distance between them and the others, Virgil grabbed Francis' arm. "Dude."

"You can't prove anything." Francis said hurriedly.

"You blew up a car!" Virgil hissed.

"It was gonna plow into the school." Francis argued. "I did a good thing."

"Did anyone see you?" Virgil asked worriedly.

Francis shook his head. "I was on the side of the car not facing everyone. The car would've blocked their view."

Virgil let out a sigh in relief. "That's good." He looked at the bike. "Is this going to run?"

Francis quickly checked the mechanics. "Yeah, should be fine for the ride home. I'll fix it up there."

"Guys!" Violet ran up to them. She punched Francis in the arm. Hard. "Did you do that?"

"Sorta." Francis allowed.

"You are so dead." Violet said. "The news crews are already here." The three turned around. Sure enough, the street was becoming clogged with news vans and reporters leaped out, running around with microphones and cameramen. They jostled for the best position in front of the dying flames.

Francis groaned. "No fair. I just got out of trouble."

"Let's just get home, fast." Violet suggested. There was no argument.

* * *

Francis and Violet tiptoed into the house. It was quiet. Violet checked the kitchen. Francis went to the living room. Nobody in sight.

Francis wanted to cry in relief. He had a few more minutes of freedom at least.

Violet came back from the kitchen, two pops in hand. She gave one to Francis and sat down on the couch, turning the TV on.

"Mom left a note saying she was taking Jack-Jack to a play date. I have no idea where Dad is. He could be in his den." Violet said. She turned to the news. Seeing as how Dakota was a town away, the car chase and explosion weren't top news. They were, however, on the bill for the six o' clock update.

Francis plopped down on the easy chair, legs dangling over the armrest. "How much trouble do you think I'm in?"

Violet shrugged. "Depends. You're going to have to argue your case."

"Yeah?" Francis let his head drop over the other armrest. "You mean like show how using my powers in public to blow up a car was a good thing?"

"I wouldn't phrase it that way." Violet advised. "But yeah."

"Huh." Francis contemplated at the carpet. "I can do that."

Violet's phone went off. She pulled it from her pocket ad read her text. "Oh, awesome!"

"What?" Francis asked. He felt the blood rushing to his head and he sat up. He popped the tab on his drink and chugged half the beverage in one gulp.

"No school tomorrow." Violet answered. "Early start to our vacation. Not bad." She smiled at Francis. "I guess I have you to thank for this."

"You're welcome." Francis raised his can in a toast.

* * *

At dinner, Bob brought in a small TV and set it on the counter so everyone could see the screen.

"What're you doing Dad?" Dash asked.

"Oh, I just thought we could all enjoy a little TV with our dinner tonight." Bob answered with an ominously cheery tone. He took his seat at the head of the table.

Francis glanced worriedly between the TV and Bob. It was a few minutes from six and nobody had mentioned Francis using his powers. He smelled a scheme.

Bob casually glanced at his watch and then turned the TV on. It was already set to the news channel. The live update opened with a nice bird's eye view of Dakota High School. A female reporter, Shelly Sandoval, suddenly filled the screen. The report had been filmed earlier in the day. The wreckage of the sports car was still flaming in the background.

Francis choked and hurriedly reached for his glass of water.

"Oh hey, how about that. Your schools on TV." Bob said cheerily. "Anything interesting happen today?"

Lucius and Helen kept straight faces. They were clearly in on Bob's little spectacle.

"Um, nope." Francis said. "Normal. Boring."

"Yeah." Virgil and Violet were quick to add their agreements.

"Whoa! Is that a car? On fire?" Dash asked excitedly.

"It seems so." Bob said. "I wonder how a car at your school caught on fire?"

"Okay, okay." Francis groaned. "I did it. Sorry."

"Sorry's not really good enough kid." Lucius said. "This is serious business."

"Francis," Helen started. "Do you understand that our secret identities are our most prized possessions? Without them, we are nothing. People would use them against us, they would destroy our lives." She wiped at the corner of her mouth daintily with a napkin before continuing. "We placed an enormous amount of trust in you when we told you our secret identities."

"I didn't jeopardize _your_ identities." Francis argued.

Bob shook his head. "If someone figured out you were a Super, don't you think they could trace you back here? To this house? Don't you think they'd find this living arrangement a bit odd? When you put your identity at risk, you endanger ours as well."

Francis looked down at his plate. "Sorry."

"Well, go on." Lucius said. Francis looked up. "Plead your case."

"Okay." Francis collected his thoughts. "There was this police chase and the tire on the bad guys' car got blown out. They lost control and the car veered into the parking lot. It was plowing through all these cars and kids were running around, it was crazy." Francis paused. "I saved Virgil's life."

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, he did. He pushed me out of the way, the car was headed straight for us."

The adults looked impressed. Helen made a 'go on' gesture.

"The car was heading for the school so I figured it would be best to stop it. Someone was going to get hurt. I threw a fireball under the car and that blew it into the air. Then it caught on fire and exploded. But it stopped. _And_ nobody got hurt." Francis thought that was everything. "Oh yeah, nobody saw me either. I'm sure."

"You can never be a hundred percent sure." Bob said. He rose from his chair. "Huddle."

Lucius, Helen, and Bob left the room. Francis watched them go anxiously.

"That wasn't too bad." Violet said.

"Yeah, not the most eloquent argument in the world, but you made your point." Virgil added.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the critique. Now I know not to join the debate team."

"You blew up a car?" Dash asked. "That is so cool!"

Francis ruffled Dash's hair. "Shut up Shorty. They're gonna think I'm a bad influence."

"You are a bad influence." Violet said, but she said it with a smile.

The adults filed back in. Francis looked up, awaiting the verdict.

Lucius smiled. "You're off the hook."

Francis let out a little whoop.

"But," Helen put a premature stop to his celebration. "You're going to do the dishes tonight and help with the laundry tomorrow. And we expect you to be more careful in the future. We won't be as lenient if this happens a second time."

Francis nodded. "Okay, sure." He was just glad he wasn't in trouble.

Bob smirked at Francis. "Set your alarm for seven. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."

* * *

Francis yawned, following Bob to the garage. It was so early the sun hadn't risen yet. It was the coldest day of the year so far. Francis had even thrown a bomber jacket on over his sweatshirt due to the chill.

Bob unlocked his black sports car. Francis' eyes widened. He hadn't been allowed near this car. It was a thing of beauty. "We're taking that?"

"Yup, get in." Bob climbed into the driver's seat.

Francis clambered in excitedly and stared at the dashboard in awe. Bob grinned at the teen's reaction and started the motor.

Francis settled back in his seat, looking out the window. A fresh layer of snow had fallen over night, just a couple of inches, not enough for a snowplow to come clean up the streets. The car left fresh tire tracks in the driveway as they pulled out. Francis smirked at the sight of two jack-o'-lanterns covered in snow. It was probably time to take those down.

Bob turned the radio on and they drove in silence, the faint strains of Christmas music the only sound in the car.

"So, where're we going?" Francis finally asked.

"We talked it over last night and decided that if there's going to be the risk of you using your powers in public, it's probably best if you have a uniform. That way you won't blow all our secret identities." Bob answered.

"Oh. Cool." Francis sat up. "I get a suit?"

Bob smiled. "That's the thing. There's only one person who can make Supersuits and she's fairly temperamental. She has to agree to make you a suit."

"Do you think she will?" Francis asked.

Bob grinned. "I think so. She loves a challenge."

Francis started to smile, then frowned. "Wait…"

"Don't worry about it kid." Bob reached over and very softly punched Francis' arm in a playful manner.

They drove to the very edge of Metroville, to the high-end area where the city meets the ocean. This was where all the wealthy inhabitants lived and the duo drove past mansion after mansion, Francis gaping in awe at the sheer size and grandeur of the houses.

Bob pulled into the driveway that led up a hill to a house perched on a cliff over the water. They stopped at a gate. The sun was just rising over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the ocean and the snow covered lawn.

"Yes? Who is it?" A screen on the gate flickered into life. Francis could see what looked like the top half of a woman's head. Bob smiled. "Hey E."

"Oh it's you." The woman said. "Who is that with you?"

"A new Super."

The eyes turned on Francis and stared at him. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I see. Come in, come in. There is no time to waste." The screen went black and the gates swung open.

Bob drove through and pulled up to the house. The house was enormous. Francis nearly fell over backwards as he stared up at it.

"Come on." Bob pulled on Francis' arm.

They walked into a huge open foyer. The house was one of those modern types. Big bold shapes and straight lines in primary colors seemed to be the standard decoration. It didn't seem very homey, but it was very impressive.

"There you are! What took you so long to come and visit me?" The voice seemed to come from nowhere.

Francis looked around and finally spotted a very short woman, the same woman from the security screen, standing in a doorway. She only came up to his waist. She was wearing round glasses that filled her entire face and a stylish black outfit. She posed in the doorway, one hand on her waist and the other in the air, bent at the wrist. She stared haughtily at the two Supers. "Well don't just stand there, come in already." She turned and disappeared through the doorway.

Francis was confused. Bob clapped a hand on Francis' shoulder and steered the teen after the short woman. He laughed to himself. The poor kid had no idea what he was getting into.

"Sit down." The woman climbed onto a black chair and gestured vaguely at an adjacent couch. Francis and Bob sat down. The woman lifted a martini glass from the low table in front of her. Francis wrinkled his nose. Alcohol? It was eight in the morning.

"Francis, this is Edna Mode. The best Supersuit designer to ever walk the Earth." Bob introduced them.

"Oh please, you embarrass me." Edna waved her hand. "Do go on."

Bob chuckled. "How's life been treating you E?"

"Oh no complaints. I've been keeping very busy since you disposed of that horrible Syndrome man. All the old heroes are coming out of the woodwork, wanting new designs or repairs. I'm exhausted from the work load." She looked down her nose at Francis, an impressive feat considering her diminutive stature. "And who is this?"

"Francis Stone. He's Blazestone and Downburst's son." Bob supplied. Francis looked between the two. Apparently he wasn't supposed to talk.

"I wasn't aware they were an item." Edna said, interest gleaming in her eyes. She liked gossip as much as the next person.

"I don't think they were." Bob looked to Francis for confirmation. Francis nodded. Bob continued. "Francis is staying at the Sanctum and he needs a suit."

"Oh I couldn't possibly. I am far too busy." Edna looked away, examining her fingernails.

"You'd be doing us a real big favor E. Francis is starting training and he needs a fire retardant uniform."

"Fire you say?" Edna asked. She looked at Francis. "You are a pyrotech, like your mother?"

Francis nodded.

"Mmm." Edna traced a circle onto the chair's armrest. "It would be interesting. You have a very unique body type and a dynamic appearance. I'm sure I could create something suitable for a boy like yourself."

Bob nudged Francis. He coughed awkwardly. "I would really appreciate it if you could make me a suit. I've always envied Bob's. I think it's a real work of art."

Bingo. Yahtzee. That was the right thing to say.

Edna burst into a wide, and frankly, creepy smile. "Oh well if you insist." She practically pounced at a notepad lying on the table and began scribbling furiously, glancing up at Francis every now and then. "Yes, yes, bold colors. Simple design. It will be brilliant. My best work yet."

Francis stared wide-eyed at the formidable little woman. Bob grinned at him. "Don't worry." He whispered. "She's a little eccentric but she's the best there is. Plus, she's a family friend, so be nice." Francis nodded obediently.

Edna jumped to her feet brandishing the notepad like a sword. "Come, follow me to my workshop. There is much to do." She scurried away. Bob and Francis quickly followed.

She led them down to the basement. Lights in the ceiling clicked on as she strode past. Glass cases lined the walls, displaying Supersuits and designer clothes. They reached a metal door. Edna placed her hand to a sensor pad, typed a code into a numerical lock, and placed her eye over a scanner. A microphone slid out of the door. "Edna Mode." She said clearly.

A laser gun popped out of the ceiling and pointed at Bob and Francis.

Francis jumped but Bob's restraining hand held him still. The older Super was unfazed.

"And two guests." Edna clarified. The gun retracted into the ceiling. She laughed as the doors slid open. "I always forget about the guests."

They followed Edna into her workshop. There were all sorts of machines whose purposes Francis couldn't eve guess at littering the room. Edna sat down at a small table and patted the seat beside her, looking pointedly at Bob.

Francis stood awkwardly in front of the two adults. Edna swirled her glass and regarded the teenager in front of her. "First order of business, measurements." She clapped her hands.

Two mechanical arms positioned themselves on either side of Francis, a yellow tape measure held between them. Francis stared apprehensively at it.

In a blur, the arms went to work. They lifted Francis' arms and measured his wingspan and then his height from foot to forehead.

"5' 10'' not very tall." Edna commented from her seat. Bob snickered beside her.

Francis scowled. He wasn't short, he just wasn't tall either.

The arms measured around his waist, neck, and head. They measured the width of his arms and legs, accounting for muscle mass. All the while Edna kept track of the data collected and jotted it down on her notepad, Bob watching over her shoulder.

Francis had never been so uncomfortable in his life. He had better be getting a kick-ass Supersuit.

When the arms finished their job they retreated back to where they had come from.

Edna continued writing on her notepad for several more minutes, muttering to herself. Eventually, she seemed pleased with that she had created. She slapped the pad shut and smiled at the two Supers. "It will be magnificent. Go now. Come back in three days. It will be ready then."

"Uh…" Francis was stunned. He had no idea how to respond to this strange woman.

"Thanks E. You're a life saver." Bob got to his feet.

"Go, go. Leave me to my work." Edna shooed them away.

Bob and Francis walked back to the car.

They were halfway home before Francis said anything. "That was weird."

Bob shrugged. "Yeah, but you get used to it."

"Does this mean I have to wait three more days before I can start training?"

"Yes it does."

Francis groaned and threw his head back against the seat. "Damn."

Three days later, Francis and Bob returned to Edna Mode's house. She greeted them enthusiastically and whisked Francis off to the workshop to show him his new suit. She practically pushed him into a dressing room; she was surprisingly strong for such a short person.

Francis came out in his new uniform for inspection. Bob gave him a thumbs up.

Edna was beside herself. She claimed Bob's newest suit was trash compared to this.

* * *

"Okay, let's see it."

Francis looked around the living room, a confused expression on his face. "Huh?"

"Your new suit." Helen clarified. Lucius, Virgil, Violet, and Dash were all looking at him expectantly. "Let's see it. Go put it on."

"Were you waiting for me to walk in?" Francis asked.

"Yes. Now go."

Bob laughed and walked past Francis to join his family. "Better do what she says."

Francis rolled his eyes but went to the bathroom to change. He examined his reflection in the mirror before facing the crowd. Francis smirked at himself. He looked good. Spandex definitely suited him.

He returned to the living room, actually feeling self-conscious now that there were going to be six pairs of judgmental eyes on him. He stood in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

Lucius whistled. "That is one good looking suit."

"Yeah?" Francis asked.

His suit was simple in design. His shirt was made from a spandex-like material that clung to his body but didn't hinder his movements. The collar hit high on his neck; the outline of his Adam's apple was visible through the fabric. The sleeves were short, cutting off just above his biceps like a muscle shirt would. The coloration was black with red trimming around the collar and sleeves. There was a simple red flame design emblazoned across his chest and red flames creeping over his side and across his stomach. He wore black fingerless gloves with a red Velcro patch for adjustment. The pants were black and were baggier and looser fitting than the shirt. Edna had catered to Francis' usual clothing style. There was a black belt looped through his pants with a red buckle. On the pants were red pads were Francis' knees were, offering protection should he fall. The pants were tucked into black boots that had red laces. The boots were lightweight and easy to walk in.

Francis knew the whole ensemble was fireproof and friction-resistant. There were several other handy features that Edna had mentioned, like durability and waterproof fabric.

"Put the mask on." Violet said.

"Yeah, we need the whole look." Virgil added.

Francis slid the black skintight mask on. It fit over his eyes perfectly.

There was a round of whistles and catcalls. Francis blushed.

"You look really good." Helen said.

"Thanks." Francis ducked his head in embarrassment but he couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Ugh, this chapter did not want to be written. I just didn't know how to fill the space. The only thing I knew going into this chapter was that they would go to Edna and she would make Francis uncomfortable. That's not really enough to make a chapter. But I made it work by including some action! Police chases, flaming cars! Yay! When in doubt, blow something up. That's my motto.

Hey you guys! Check this, I actually drew Francis' uniform. Just because I painstakingly went back and forth over what it should look like for weeks and I want you guys to see what's in my head. Forgive my horrible drawing skills, they get the job done. http :/ / fhgzehyde .deviantart .com /#/ d2seijd and of course just delete the spaces from within the link and it should work.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	13. Chapter 13: Super Celebration

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Thirteen: Super Celebration**

"Ok, let's start off slow." Bob stared at Francis warily. They were standing in the middle of the loft. Lucius was up in the control room, hand hovering over the button to activate the sprinkler system, just in case.

Francis was wearing his uniform, sans mask, and was grinning excitedly. "Okay."

"Let's just see what you can do." Bob explained. "Light up."

Immediately, Francis' body was consumed by flames and his eyes flashed red. Francis clenched his fists, loving the feeling of power that came with the eruption.

Bob took a step back. "Okay, good. Now focus it into one hand."

Francis lowered his fists and closed his eyes. He concentrated on re-directing the flow of the flames, feeling the heat travel from his chest where it originated down his right arm and into his palm. Francis opened his eyes, they had returned back to their natural green. The flames had dissipated from around his body and he was holding a little bundle of fire on his right hand. Francis casually tossed it into the air and caught it.

Bob was smiling at him. "Not bad. You ever play around with your powers on your own?"

Francis nodded. "Yeah, a little."

"Show me something." Bob made a gesture up to the control booth. A target sprang out of the wall behind Francis, spiraling towards the teen.

Francis spun and threw the fireball at the target. It was engulfed in the flames and exploded harmlessly, a twisted metal carcass fell smoldering to the Loft floor. Francis smirked. That felt good.

Bob whistled behind him. "Reflexes, good."

"Thanks." Francis turned around.

"How hot do you think you can go?" Bob asked.

Francis shrugged. "Pretty hot, I can melt the tar on the road if I want to. I'm pretty sure I can go hotter but I've never tried."

Bob nodded. "Fair enough. We'll work on developing a containment unit where we can gauge your temperature. Find where your limit is."

"Cool." Francis said.

"How long can you stay lit?" Bob asked.

"I dunno." Francis said. "Depends on how hot I go or how tired I am or if I get wet. At some point, I burn out. It depends on the situation."

Bob jotted all of this down onto a notepad he had. He was busy trying to devise some sort of training regimine for Francis. He'd never trained a pyro before and wasn't sure what was important to focus on. Durability seemed like a key point but Bob had been working on that with Francis for months. They just hadn't had the opportunity to see if the pool work had made any difference. They could continue working in the weight room as supplemental training. Reflex training and situation training also seemed important. Finding Francis' limit was at the forefront of the list. Bob added in textbook training. No doubt Francis would hate that particular portion of the program, but Virgil and Violet had to do it so Francis would have to do it to.

"What now?" Francis asked, interrupting Bob's thoughts. The older Super looked up, Francis was waiting for the next instruction.

"Let's run a session." Bob said. Why not? Throw the kid into the fire to see what he's made of.

Francis grinned. "Awesome."

Bob made a hand gesture up to Lucius in the control room and left the room. Francis' eyes darted around warily. He knew every wall contained weapons that could launch at any moment.

"Target practice Francis." Lucius' voice came down from an intercom. "We'll start off slow. If you need to stop, put your right fist straight up over your head. We good?"

Francis gave threw him a thumbs up.

There was the sound of grinding cogs from behind the walls. The session had started. Francis unknowingly slid his feet apart, giving him a more stable stance. He bounced on the balls of his feet, hands loose at his sides. The pyro couldn't stop the grin that crept onto his face. This is what he wanted. To use his powers, to get better, to have the knowledge and the power that had been denied him for so long.

Francis felt the heat within him flow into his limbs. His pulse quickened. Behind him a projectile shot out of the wall. Francis spun and blasted it out of the air. Almost before the smoke had cleared, two more projectiles were launched from the adjacent wall.

Francis ignited two fireballs into his hands and threw them, each colliding with their target.

Smoke curled around Francis' body. He reacted on instinct alone and it seemed to be enough. Not a single target escaped a fiery demise. Francis was feeling pretty good about himself. Then a projectile flew up from the floor beneath Francis' feet. It knocked him under the chin and Francis fell back on his butt, rubbing his face. The projectile made it back to another hatch in a wall unscathed. Francis growled. He'd missed one.

Barking laughter echoed around the room. "You alright?" Bob asked.

Francis got to his feet, scowling. "M'fine."

"Actually not too bad for your first time. But we got a long way to go." It came out as half a compliment and half an insult.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Whatever. We gonna go again or what?"

Bob snickered. "That's the right attitude. Starting in ten."

Francis let the grin back onto his face and resumed his stance, convinced he was going to demolish every projectile that crossed his path.

* * *

Violet sat in the bay window in the living room, looking out into the falling snow. The sun had set and the glow from the table lamp illuminated a square of light on the white lawn outside. She hugged her knees to her chest and smiled. She loved winter. She loved the snow. It was so pretty. It made everything look fresh and unspoiled. Every morning was a new start.

"You ready to go?" It was Francis, behind her.

Violet slid off the window seat and nodded. She had her uniform on under her jacket and her mask in her pocket.

Francis had thrown a hoodie on over his uniform. He fiddled with the zipper unhappily.

"C'mon kids." Helen walked into the room and turned the table lamp off, ushering the two teens towards the garage.

They were taking the van, Virgil and his dad were already seated. Bob was tossing a football back and forth with Dash as they waited for last of their party to arrive. Jack-Jack was safely at a baby-sitter's, an NSA approved sitter. No one wanted a repeat of the Kari disaster.

"I still don't see why I have to go." Francis grumbled.

"Just get in the car." Bob motioned for the pyro to get in the van. "We're all going and we're all going to have a good time. You kids don't know how special this is. Nothing like this has ever happened before."

Francis rolled his eyes when Bob turned his back. Violet giggled and got in, sitting next to Virgil. Francis and Dash climbed in, fighting for the window seat. Francis won.

"Enough of that." Helen scolded. "I want everyone on their best behavior tonight."

"Helen, relax. Tonight's going to be fine." Lucius assured his friend. "Right guys?" Lucius looked over his shoulder at the four kids. They all nodded back at him. "See?" Lucius grinned.

"Oh, I feel so much better now." Helen scoffed.

Bob pulled out of the garage and the van full of Supers was on the road, each of them wearing their uniforms under their coats.

They were on their way to the first ever Super Holiday Party. Since Syndrome's defeat and the truth about the disappearance of many Supers had some to light, a lot of the old Supers wanted to get together and reminisce and plan comebacks. Of course this party required secrecy and uniforms. Most Supers never knew the identity of other Supers.

Another component of the party was to remember their fallen comrades. Syndrome had murdered twenty-six Supers in his quest to perfect the Omnidroid. Twenty-six friends and colleagues. They deserved to be commemorated.

Francis rested his head against the cool glass and closed his eyes, tuning out the chatter of the others. He did not want to go to this party. He did not want to be in a roomful of people who had known his parents better than he did and would want to talk about them all night. In fact, it was the last thing Francis wanted to do.

They drove to a house on the outskirts of the city one of the Supers had rented for the night and outfitted for the party. They pulled into the driveway. Every light in the house was on and music could be heard from within.

Everyone piled out and put their masks on before trudging through the snow to the front door. Francis jumped out last and slid the door shut. He sighed heavily and stared at his reflection in the car window. He pulled his mask from his pocket and slid it onto his face. It molded perfectly to his features. Francis scowled at his reflection and turned towards the house.

Inside the party was in full swing. Supers had amassed from all over the country and were now crowded into every corner of the house. All of them wore their uniforms, some showing signs of age. Many had potbellies or wrinkles while a few were still on pretty good shape.

Bob, Helen, and Lucius disappeared into the crowd quickly, being swallowed by their fellow Supers. A raucous cheer went up when the Supers realized Bob had walked in. Several went up and shook hands with him, patting him on the back. Bob put his arm around Helen and motioned at Violet and Dash, who dutifully walked to their father to be introduced. On the other side of the room Lucius was telling a story to a Super dressed in purple, Virgil at his side.

Francis looked around awkwardly and finally wandered into another room. He had never been around so many Supers before. He didn't recognize most of them. A few he could. He'd seen them blow in and out of the government center when he was young. They had ignored him then and they were ignoring him now. Francis rubbed his arm nervously. This was his first time wearing his uniform out of the house, what if he looked silly? He suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Francis sought the safety of the kitchen. He could kill a few minutes pouring himself a drink.

Francis found a can of pop and went back to the living room. He had completely lost sight of the others and was alone in the sea of Supers.

"Hi." Someone tapped Francis on the shoulder.

He spun around. A teenaged African American girl was standing behind him, a friendly smile on her face. She wore a purple mask that tied behind her head and a red and purple uniform, complete with purple cape.

"Hey." Francis nodded.

"I've never seen you before. Are you new?" The girl asked.

Francis shrugged. "You could say that."

"I'm Shebang." The girl pushed her hand into Francis' face.

He laughed. "I'm…uh…" He couldn't introduce himself as Francis. It was a huge no-no to reveal his identity when in uniform, even to another Super.

"Don't you have a name?" Shebang asked, a challenging look in her eye.

"Yeah I got a name." Francis said. "It's…Hotstreak." Where had that come from? Francis mentally shrugged. He could have said worse. He could have gone with Flame-O or something equally awful. Hotstreak wasn't so bad, it had a nice ring to it.

"Hotstreak?" Shebang giggled. "Nice."

"Thanks." Francis was proud of himself.

"Where're you from?" Shebang asked. The two had meandered near an empty table. They slid into the chairs. Francis was grateful to have found someone to talk to.

"Metroville." Francis said. "You?"

"Out in California." Shebang supplied. "My parents wanted to come in for this party so here I am."

"Your parents...?" Francis trailed off.

Shebang nodded over Francis' shoulder. "Over there."

Francis turned and noticed a man and a woman dressed in matching green uniforms talking to a man in yellow.

"They were a team before they got married, hence the matching uniforms." Shebang explained. "The Daring Duo."

"Nice." Francis said. "My parents were on a team too." He'd seen a photo of them once in their Beta Force uniforms in one of Dicker's files. Lucius had been the leader of that team. It was how his parents had met.

"Which one?" Shebang asked.

"Beta Force." Francis said.

Shebang's brow furrowed. "Then your parents are…"

"Hey guys." Virgil slid into the seat next to Francis. "What's going on?"

"Nothin' man." Francis was quick to distract Shebang. He hadn't meant to redirect their conversation towards his parents.

"Hey Shebang." Vigril grinned across the table.

"Hey yourself." Shebang returned the greeting.

"You guys know each other?" Francis asked.

"Yup. Our parents were friends back in the old days." Virgil explained. "We used to have playdates all the time before they permanently moved West."

"How I miss pummeling you at Nintendo." Shebang smirked.

Virgil scoffed. "Please."

Francis drained the last of his pop and crushed the can in one hand. He looked around the room. He noticed a screen was put up on one wall. It was playing a slideshow of photographs of Supers. "What's that?"

Shebang's face fell. "That's all the Supers who were killed by Syndrome."

The three teens somberly watched as the photos changed. Apogee, Everseer, Macroburst, Stormicide, Blitzerman, Gamma Jack, Universal Man. Francis turned away when Blazestone's picture lit up the screen.

He felt eyes on him and he looked up. Shebang was staring at him with a sad look. Francis scowled. He hated that look. He stood up and stalked from the room.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Helen stopped him in the hallway.

"Nothing." Francis lied. He wanted to get away. He hated being around so many people in so small a space, especially when most of those people were bulkier than your average person. It made his pulse race. Francis felt claustrophobic. "Just wanna get some air."

Helen nodded and released her grip on his arm.

Francis was fighting through the crowd to get to the door when he was stopped again. "Hey, you're that kid Incredible was telling us about right?" Two men stood in his way. One clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Blazestone's son?"

Francis nodded. "It's Hotstreak."

"I'm Fironic. This is Plasmabolt." The one in red introduced them. "Listen, I'm really sorry about your parents."

Plasmabolt nodded sympathetically. "I knew them both. Blazestone and Downburst were good people and damn good Supers."

"Thanks." Francis said through gritted teeth. He eyed the door anxiously.

"What happened to them could have happened to any of us. I'm just glad Syndrome never got his hands on me. I'd be in that slideshow too." Fironic continued.

Plasmabolt nodded again. "If even a Super as smart as Blaze got fooled, then all of us were fair game."

Fironic laughed. "Yeah, but it wouldn't have taken much to fool old Downburst."

"No it wouldn't." Plasmabolt joined the laughter. "But if he landed a girl like Blaze then he probably had more going for him that I thought."

Francis shrugged off Fironic's hand and left the two without saying goodbye. They didn't seem to notice. He found the front door and pulled it open, escaping to the cold outside.

Francis jumped the porch steps and walked to the driveway, standing in the fluorescent lighting from the outside lights. Snowflakes still fell lazily from the sky. Francis shook them from his hair but more took their place. He wrapped his arms around himself, wondering if he should heat up a little. His breath puffed in little clouds in front of his face.

It was quiet outside, although muffled noise from the party could still be heard. Francis kicked at the snow. He was shivering, whether it was from the cold or from rage he couldn't tell. He shouldn't have come tonight. Francis should have argued more adamantly to stay home. He was nothing but a novelty to the Supers inside. He was Blazestone's son, or Downburst's son. He was the kid who was orphaned by Syndrome. He wasn't Francis. He wasn't even Hotstreak.

"Hey."

Francis looked up. Bob was standing at the door, looking towards him with concern.

"Hey."

"You okay?"

Francis looked away.

Bob walked towards the teenager. "I saw you leave. What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie."

"I…I just…" Francis growled in frustration. "I don't belong in there. I couldn't handle it."

"Sure you can." Bob tried to placate the pyro. "I'll introduce you to a couple of good people and you'll feel better…"

"That's not it!" Francis shouted. He ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Well you gotta try kid, otherwise I'm not going to understand." Bob said.

"It's like…" Francis sighed. "It's like everybody in there knew my parents better than I did. I don't like it. They talk about them and I have no idea what they're saying. I see a picture of them up on the wall and I don't recognize them. I don't have any connection to them or any of the people in there. I don't belong. Virgil knew that Shebang chick, you and Helen and Lucius know everybody in there. I was the only one who couldn't find someone to talk to or didn't know what to do. I've never felt like that before. I hate it."

Bob listened in silence. When Francis stopped, he nodded. "It's okay. I understand."

"Yeah?" Francis asked. He hadn't expected his rambling to make much sense.

"Yes, and it's okay to feel like that." Bob sighed. "I don't exactly know what to say to make you feel better because I don't think there is anything I could say. It's something that's going to pass the more you're around people like us. "We Supers," Bob put a hand on Francis' shoulder and motioned between them and then back at the house. "We're a rowdy bunch who aren't always so eloquent or disciplined. So you're going to have to forgive our manners."

Francis smiled.

Bob turned and walked back towards the door. Francis stood still, hands in pockets. "Do I have to go back in?" He asked before Bob reached the door.

Bob looked over his shoulder at Francis, hunched against the wind, snowflakes swirling around his face. "No. But if you do, come find me. We'll stick together, okay kid?"

Francis nodded.

Bob went back inside, leaving Francis alone in the snow.

* * *

A half an hour later Bob noticed Francis watching him from the corner of the room, shuffling his feet nervously. Bob was talking to an old friend, Soul Power. The guy had been an old-timer when Bob was a young superhero. His uniform fit him loosely and his face was lined with wrinkles, his hair long gone white. Despite his age, Soul Power was sharp as a tack and a very warm, caring person. He was the perfect Super to put Francis at ease. Bob gestured at for the pyro to come over.

The teenager approached them cautiously.

"Soul have you met my new protégé?" Bob asked, wrapping an arm around Francis.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure." Soul Power extended his hand. "Soul Power. Pleased to meet you."

"Hotstreak." Francis responded. Bob raised an eyebrow at the boy. The name was new.

"So you're being trained by Incredible?" Soul Power asked, a friendly smile on his weathered face.

"Yeah, we just started." Francis said. "He said we have to take it slow."

Bob rolled his eyes. "I only said that because you've never really used your powers before." He playfully punched Francis' arm. "But he's coming along nicely."

"A pyrotech I take it?" Soul Power glanced down at the fire emblazoned on Francis' chest.

Francis nodded. "Yeah."

"Like your mother." Soul Power nodded but didn't continue on the subject of Francis' parents. He surprisingly switched over to sports. "What do you think about the Conference?"

Bob scoffed. "None of them have the heart or the skill. They play like spoiled little children."

Soul Power tutted like a disapproving parent. "Now, now. You can't say that about Municiberg. They're all heart."

"Yeah but no skill." Francis put in. "Jones dropped an easy reverse pass that would have been the winning touchdown but he fumbled under pressure."

Soul Power's eyes twinkled at Francis' comment. "Right you are Hotstreak. So who do you think has the stuff to go all the way?"

Francis grinned and launched into a detailed analysis he had been forming since October. He didn't even notice when Bob left his side.

* * *

"Go long."

Dash looked behind him. "How long is long?"

Francis grinned. "Just get behind the couch." The teenged pyro was standing at one end of the living room, an opened bag of gummy fruit snacks in one hand. He popped one into his mouth while he waited for Dash to find his position across the room.

Dash jumped up and down on the balls of his feet, almost giggling in anticipation. "Okay! Now!"

Francis took a gummy and threw it to Dash. The boy ducked right and caught the gummy in his mouth. He chewed in delight.

Now Dash was the one to tear open his own package of gummies and toss one to Francis. The red-head had to dive but still made an impressive catch, rolling onto his back and kicking back to his feet.

The two threw gummies across the room, making each throw harder and harder, trying to make the other boy miss. A few gummies went skidding under the couch and behind the TV. At one point Dash didn't look where he was going and slammed into the coffee table. He jumped back up laughing.

They had gone through almost six packs of gummies when Helen walked into the room. "No. No no no. Out. You guys are making a mess!"

"Aw Mom." Dash whined.

Francis emptied the last of his package into his mouth, stuffing the wrapper into his pocket, feigning innocence.

"Oh, don't give me that look." Helen pointed a finger at Francis. "This was probably your idea. I bet there's going to be melted blobs of sucrose all over my living room."

Francis shrugged. "Sorry?"

Helen sighed. She motioned at the door. "Go, go outside. Burn off your energy. This house isn't big enough for three boys."

Virgil leaned out of the kitchen. "Hey! I'm in here doing my homework like a good boy."

Helen smiled. "No offense Virgil."

"None taken."

"C'mon, let's go play outside." Dash tugged at Francis' sleeve.

Francis shrugged again. "Alright. Why not?"

"Boots!" Helen called after them.

Dash and Francis got suited up for winter. Dash put on his snow pants, coat, gloves, boots, and a hat. He practically disappeared inside the clothing. Francis, on the other hand, put on his bomber jacket, a hat, and tucked his jeans into his Hi-Top sneakers.

It was the middle of the day. The sun shining off the snow was practically blinding. Francis squinted in the light.

Dash ran out into the middle of the yard, throwing himself into the new fallen snow and rolling around. Francis plodded out towards the little boy, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Now what?"

Dash sat up. "Dunno. What do you wanna do?"

Francis shrugged. "Dunno."

Dash played with the snow next to him, gathering a handful and packing it into a spehere. Dash grinned and threw it at Francis.

The teenager had been looking down the street and took the snowball right to the face. Francis turned and stared at Dash, mouth agape. Clumps of snow fell down his cheek and onto his collar.

"You serious?"

Dash jumped to his feet and ran away laughing. Francis bent over and scooped up a handful of snow. It melted the instant it hit his palm. Francis frowned and concentrated on lowering his body temperature. He shivered at the new rush of cold but when he reached down for another handful the snow stayed solid. He packed it between his hands, making the perfect snowball.

He treaded noiselessly through the snow, stalking after Dash. The little boy was hiding behind a tree. When he saw Francis he moved for cover behind the house and that was when Francis launched his missile. The snowball cracked against the back of Dash's heand and he lurched forward into the snow.

Francis burst into laughter and darted away, Dash in hot pursuit. The two engaged in a snowball war for the better part of the afternoon and when they came in for dinner, their cheeks were rosy with cold and Francis had been thoroughly trounced by the his much younger foe.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I'm sure we've all gone into a party where we didn't know anyone and felt so acutely uncomfortable we just wanted to leave immediately. Now Francis has too. And look! He's Hotstreak now! Yay! And more cameos from our Static Shock friends. There will be more to come.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	14. Chapter 14: Monster

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Fourteen: Monster**

Francis lay on the couch in the living room, thumbing through one of Virgil's old comic books. One leg was draped over the back of the couch, the other dangled to the carpet. Dash was lying on the adjacent couch in a similar position, although his legs didn't quite fill as much space. A nauseatingly bright cartoon was on the television, volume turned low so Francis could ignore it.

Violet walked into the room and 'harrumphed' at the sight. "Must you splay your legs like that? What are you, apes? Trying to assert your dominance?"

Francis snickered and let his leg drop back to the couch so his legs weren't quite so far apart.

"What'd she say?" Dash asked, his eyes were glazed over from following the cartoon.

Violet rolled her eyes and pushed her little brother's legs aside so she could sit down.

"Are Mom and Dad going out tonight?" Dash asked, craning his neck to get a better view of the now obstructed screen.

Violet leaned out of his way. "Yeah, any minute now." She sighed. "You just know they're going to put me in charge and that means I'm going to have to look after Jack-Jack all night and you know how fussy he gets when Mom leaves."

"Sucks to be you." Dash deadpanned.

Violet smacked his leg and crossed her arms in irritation. "You just wait 'till you get older, you won't think it's so funny then."

"Aw relax you guys." Francis muttered from behind his comic.

The two siblings were about to ignore the pyro and continue with their bickering when Bob and Helen walked into the room.

"Okay guys, we're off." Bob announced.

Helen had Jack-Jack on her hip. She cooed at him while Bob spoke.

"Lucius and Virgil will be back from their skiing trip tomorrow so it's just you four tonight." Bob explained. "I want this house in the same condition it is now when we get back."

"We'll be fine Dad." Violet rolled her eyes.

"I know. It's just something dads have to say." Bob smiled.

Helen lifted Jack-Jack into her arms. "Alright. Francis is in charge tonight. Dash, you better listen to him."

"Wait…what?" Francis gaped.

"Sweet!" Violet fist-pumped.

"You heard me." Helen smirked at the boy. She passed Jack-Jack into Francis' arms. "Jack-Jack needs to be fed and bathed before bed. Dash's bedtime is at ten. Have a good night."

"Wait."

The adults turned to leave, ignoring Francis' call.

"Wait! I'm not kidding!" Francis shouted. The garage door opened and closed. The car engine started. "I don't know how to do this!"

The car peeled out, leaving the four kids in the living room. Violet smiled broadly at Francis. "Have fun." She sauntered from the room.

Francis stared wide-eyed at Jack-Jack, who squirmed in his arms.

"You're holding him wrong." Dash said.

"Wha…then how…" Francis tried to adjust the wriggling baby to no avail. Jack-Jack almost slipped from his grasp altogether. Francis clutched the baby, afraid to drop him.

"I'm gonna go downstairs." Dash jetted off in a blur.

"Dash! Come back here!" Francis shouted after him. He got no response.

Francis and Jack-Jack stared at each other. The baby widened his eyes to saucer-like proportions and gurgled happily, fisting one hand in Francis' shirt.

Francis held the baby at arms-length. "Good baby, nice baby."

Jack-Jack babbled giddily before erupting into flames.

Francis jumped and yelped, almost dropping the baby. He'd never seen Jack-Jack's powers before. The outline of Jack-Jack's eyes looked up at Francis curiously. The teenager quirked an eyebrow, smirking down at the flaming bundle in his arms. "Nice try."

Jack-Jack clapped his hands together and suddenly his tiny body was made of metal, a very heavy metal. Again, Francis almost dropped the baby. The weight was unexpected. Francis lugged the metallic baby to the couch and sank down onto its cushions, wrapping both arms around Jack-Jack and holding him against his chest. The baby squirmed in protest, changing from metal back to fire and then into a tiny red demonic monster who pounded his captor's arms. Francis held firm. When Jack-Jack shot lasers from his eyes, Francis simply directed the baby's gaze away from himself. He'd cover up those holes in the drywall later.

After several minutes, Jack-Jack settled back into his normal self. He titled his head back to look up at Francis, his eyes welling with tears.

"Oh…no."

Jack-Jack gulped in one breath of air and wailed, loudly. Tears streamed down his chubby face. Francis got to his feet, holding Jack-Jack away from himself again. He knew how to handle Jack-Jack's powers, but crying? That was beyond him.

"Hey, stop. Please?" Francis walked around the room. Jack-Jack's face was turning red from his screaming. He waved his tiny fists in the air.

Francis was trying to stop himself from panicking. Was Jack-Jack breathing? Could babies cry themselves to death? Did he do something wrong? Was Bob going to kick his ass for this? Did he break Jack-Jack?

"Shhh, stop. Stop crying." Francis paced the room. He held Jack-Jack against his chest. The baby nuzzled his face into Francis' shoulder, still crying hysterically. Francis' shirt was drenched in seconds. Francis supported Jack-Jack with one arm and put his other hand against the baby's back like he had seen Helen do. He gently rubbed up and down Jack-Jack's back, trying to soothe the baby.

After a few minutes, Jack-Jack's cries had settled into a hiccupping whimper. His face was still buried in the crook of Francis' neck and he had a death grip on Francis' shirt.

Francis sighed in relief. One hurdle jumped. What was next?

That question was answered when an odor permeated the room. Francis almost gagged. "Oh my god."

He pried Jack-Jack off of him and put the baby down on the couch, waving the air in front of him. "Damn lil' Monster."

Jack-Jack put his fist in his mouth and began to suck happily. The stench got worse.

"Okay, come on." Francis lifted the baby gingerly, careful to hold the baby away from himself.

* * *

Violet had turned the music up as loud as it would go. That's why she didn't hear the knock on her door. Francis walked in anyway.

He held the baby out to her.

Violet withdrew one earbud and then the other. She wrinkled her nose when the smell hit her. "Oh, gross. Go change him."

"I don't know how." Francis actually looked a little frightened.

Violet smirked at him. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

Francis gaped at her. "But…please? I don't wanna mess up."

"You're a big boy." Violet said condescendingly.

Francis scowled. He stalked to the door. "Fine, I'll do it by myself." His voice wavered.

"Wait." Violet got up and followed Francis to the door. She put her hand on his shoulder. "I'll show you."

Francis grinned in thanks.

They walked to the nursery.

"Okay, so you take diaper, the baby powder, and the wipes." Violet pointed out each item laid out on the changing table. She put Jack-Jack down on the table and opened his diaper.

Francis recoiled. "Ew."

Violet nodded. "Yeah."

She quickly cleaned and changed Jack-Jack, tossing the dirty diaper into the garbage can. "Did you get that?"

Francis nodded. "Yeah. Still gross though."

"You get used to it." Violet lifted Jack-Jack into her arms and passed him off to Francis. "You might want to go wrangle Dash and give him something to eat before bed."

"Okay."

"And when you give Jack-Jack his bath make sure you use the tear-free shampoo. And only fill the tub a couple of inches."

Francis nodded at each suggestion. Jack-Jack squirmed in his grip.

Violet rolled her eyes. "You're holding him wrong." She manipulated Francis' arms so that Jack-Jack stopped wriggling and nestled into the older boy's hold.

"See?" Violet asked, beaming at Francis.

"Uh huh." Francis muttered, careful not to move. He wanted Jack-Jack to stay content.

* * *

"Dash!" Francis shouted. He walked from room to room looking for the little boy. He'd checked the pool, the weight room, the Loft, the command center, and every other room in the Sanctum's headquarters.

He finally found Dash in the gym. The kid had a rack of basketballs out and was crazily throwing them at both hoops, running after the rebounds and tossing them back up, whooping when he made a basket.

Francis stood in the doorway and laughed. Jack-Jack picked up the laughter and gurgled along with his babysitter.

Dash stopped what he was doing and waved at Francis. "Hi."

"Hey. Want something to eat?" Francis stepped onto the court.

"No." Dash resumed throwing balls at the backboard.

"Um. I think I have to give you dinner." Francis insisted.

Dash shrugged. "Not hungry."

"Oh c'mon. You're always hungry. Fast metabolism and all that." Francis had overheard Helen comment on Dash's inexhaustible appetite.

"I said I'm not hungry!" Dash shouted. "I want to play!"

"You can play after you eat." Francis reasoned.

"No." Dash said stubbornly.

Francis groaned. Babysitting sucked. A lot.

"I don't care, let's go." Francis stepped towards Dash. The younger boy reacted and dodged his grab. He stuck his tongue out at the teenager.

Francis kicked the gym door shut to trap Dash. "I'm not chasing you Shorty. I've got Jack-Jack."

"Catch me and I'll eat dinner." Dash dared smugly.

"No. Your parents said I'm in charge and that means you've got to do what I say and I say we're going to eat dinner." Francis ordered.

Dash sulked but obeyed, following Francis out of the gym and up to the main level. He slid into a chair at the kitchen table with a frown and glared at Francis.

"Stop." Francis said. "I thought we were pals?"

Dash jerked his head up in alarm. "We are pals!"

"Then stop making me feel like a jerk for making you eat dinner." Francis put Jack-Jack in his high-chair.

"Okay." Dash said glumly. "I only wanted to play."

"We can play after." Francis promised. He searched the cupboards for something he could make. "How do you feel about cereal?"

"For dinner?" Dash wrinkled his nose.

"I'll take that as a no then." Francis continued looking. He had no idea how to cook anything beyond toast or something with microwave instructions on the back. In the freezer Francis found a box of frozen pizza. He held it up for Dash to see. The younger boy nodded his approval.

Good." Francis popped the pizza in the microwave and found a jar of Jack-Jack's baby food. He emptied the contents into a little plastic bowl and placed it and a spoon onto the high-chair tray.

Jack-Jack pounded the tray with his hands, eagerly awaiting his dinner.

"You have to feed him." Dash pointed out.

Francis rolled his eyes but sat down next to the baby and held the mush-loaded spoon out to him. Jack-Jack gummed the food down and smiled. Francis repeated the action and found himself smiling at the baby's antics.

"You're making funny faces like my mom." Dash laughed.

"I am not." Francis promptly stopped smiling.

"Dash nodded. "Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Am not."

"Are too too too too!" Dash giggled.

"Whatever. I'm not having this argument with you." Francis dropped the empty bowl and spoon into the sink. The oven dinged.

"Pizza!" Dash shouted excitedly.

"Oh so now you want dinner?" Francis asked, reaching into the oven.

"Yeah…wait! You need the oven mitt!" Dash yelled in warning.

Francis smirked and pulled the pizza out, not burned, not even grimacing at the blistering heat. "Pyrotech, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

* * *

Francis got Dash to watch a movie quietly in the living room with the lights off. Hopefully that would put him to sleep. Or at least sleepy. That kid had way too much energy. It was exhausting trying to keep up with him.

In the meantime, Francis had to give Jack-Jack a bath and put him to bed.

He didn't go to Violet for help. He hadn't seen her since she'd helped change Jack-Jack's diaper. Francis wanted to do this on his own.

"Okay, Monster. Sit there." Francis sat Jack-Jack down on the bath mat. The baby played happily with the frayed edge while Francis turned the water on.

He only let it fill a couple of inches, as Violet had suggested. It was warm, not hot. Francis thought hot water might not be good for a baby.

Francis took Jack-Jack's clothes off and plopped the baby into the tub. Jack-Jack almost fell over and Francis put his hand on the baby's back to keep him upright. Jack-Jack splashed in the water and laughed.

Francis smiled again. The kid was cute.

He found the no-tear shampoo made for babies and squirted some into his palm. Jack-Jack grabbed Francis' wrist to see what he had. Francis pulled away and rubbed the shampoo onto Jack-Jack's head, frothing it up. Jack-Jack played with the white suds streaming down his face into the water.

Francis rinsed the shampoo out of Jack-Jack's hair and spiked it into its normal hairstyle. Francis then drained the water from the tub and bundled Jack-Jack into a fluffy towel.

By the time Francis got Jack-Jack to the nursery, the baby was half-asleep. It was easy to manipulate his limbs into his onesie pajamas. Francis took Jack-Jack and returned to the living room to check on Dash.

The little boy was asleep in his dad's chair, curled into a ball. The movie was only half over. It was some cartoon about a baby elephant finding his way home or something sappy like that.

Francis settled on the couch, Jack-Jack in his arms. It wasn't even that late but Francis was exhausted. He never wanted to be left in charge again. Taking care of kids is hard work. "Let's be quiet Monster." He closed his eyes, only for a second. Just to rest.

* * *

"Bob, be quiet. You're going to wake the kids." Helen scolded as they walked into the house.

"Sorry." Bob said, although he still had one of his hands dangerously low on his wife's hip.

Helen flashed him a smile and opened the door, stepping into their house. All the lights were off and it was quiet.

Helen went to check on Jack-Jack but his room was empty. So was Dash's.

"Bob?" Helen whisper-called.

"Helen, you've got to see this." Bob whisper-called back from the living room.

Helen walked into the living room and put a hand over her mouth to stop an 'aw' from escaping. Dash was curled up on Bob's chair with an angelic look on his face. Francis was asleep on the couch with Jack-Jack nestled against his side, one arm draped protectively over the baby.

Helen held her hands up and mimed taking a picture. Bob took the hint and found a camera in the kitchen. He handed the camera to Helen who quickly took a photo in the light of the TV screen.

"I think they wore him out. Let him sleep." Bob said softly. Helen nodded.

She took Jack-Jack off the couch. The arm Francis had had around the baby fell to his side to fill the space.

Bob picked Dash up and the two parents took their children to bed, leaving Francis asleep on the couch.

* * *

Francis awoke the next morning when he realized he hadn't been shaken awake at some godforsaken hour to train. Francis sat up slowly, surveying the room with sleepy confusion. There was light streaming through the window. It had to be ten o'clock, maybe even later.

"Hey sleepy head." Helen walked into the room from the kitchen, stirring her coffee.

"Hey." Francis rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair. He stifled a yawn. "What time is it?"

"Quarter past ten." Helen said. "You looked pretty tired last night. Bob and I decided you could have the day off."

"Really?" Francis asked.

Helen nodded. "Dash says you were a great babysitter." She stooped over and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for doing such a good job."

Francis blushed. "No problem."

"We were going to go shopping in a little for gifts and whatnot, if you'd like to come." Helen said.

"Uh, sure. I guess." Francis rubbed his eyes. "I'll go get dressed."

* * *

Francis shuffled through the mall after the very happy and spirited Parr family. The mall was decorated for Christmas, tinsel and mistletoe everywhere. They had already paid a visit to Santa's Village for the obligatory photo of Jack-Jack on Santa's lap.

Helen and Violet were doing most of the shopping while Bob and Dash ate as much food from the food court as they could while holding the women's bags. Francis got saddled holding Jack-Jack, which he hoped wouldn't become a regular thing. He was not going to be the live-in babysitter. Just, no.

Helen and Violet disappeared into a jewelry store. Bob followed to try and figure out what to get Helen for Christmas. Francis waited on a bench with Dash and Jack-Jack.

Since Dicker and the NSA had decided to pay his expenses while he was living with the Parrs, Francis got a monthly allowance. It wasn't a lot, but at least it was something. Today Francis had splurged on some posters for his room, which was still pretty bare, and a couple of DVDs. The rest of the family was busy finding gifts for one another and various friends.

Francis was trying to stop Jack-Jack from going into mini-monster mode because Dash wasn't sharing his ice cream when he heard his name being called.

"Francis!"

He looked up and saw Frieda waving at him. Francis smiled.

Frieda hurried over, several bags on her arms. "Hi! I didn't expect to see you here."

"Ditto. This is Metroville, what are you doing way out here?" Francis slid over to make room for Frieda on the bench. She dropped down next to him.

"I'm visiting relatives. Every year we have a big Hannukah party at my cousin's house. I realized I forgot to get presents for my grandparents so I had to hurry over here before sundown." Frieda explained. She looked over at Dash and then cooed at Jack-Jack sitting on Francis' lap. "Who are these little guys?"

"Who're you calling little?" Dash demanded to know, insulted at being grouped in with his little brother.

"Chill Shorty." Francis said. "That's Dash and this is Jack-Jack. They're Violet's brothers."

"Oh. That's nice. Is she around?" Frieda asked.

"Somewhere. Doing girly stuff." Francis said with a smile.

Frieda laughed. "Shopping can be fun for guys too." She nudged one of his bags with her foot. "I see you've been busy."

"Well yeah." Francis admitted. "But it's all manly stuff."

"Of course it is."

"Hey Dad!" Dash jumped off the bench and ran to his father who had just exited the store.

Bob swooped Dash into his arms and spun him around once, much to Dash's delight. Bob looked over at the bench and quirked an eyebrow at Francis, nodding at Frieda. Francis gave him a shooing motion.

Bob got the hint and led Dash into a sporting goods store.

Frieda had missed the entire exchange because she was playing with Jack-Jack. When Francis turned back to her Frieda looked up and shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Um, listen. At the Hannukah party, my cousins always invite some of their friends to come and I end up spending the whole night alone. Would you like to come to keep me company?"

Francis leaped at the opportunity. "Sure. Sounds cool."

Frieda smiled. "No it doesn't, but thanks. I'll text an address and time, okay?"

"Yeah." Francis nodded.

Frieda got up and gathered her bags. "Well, I'll see you later then."

"See you later." Francis confirmed. He unashamedly watched her walk away.

* * *

Francis awkwardly stood off to the side while Frieda's family said the blessings and lit the menorah. When they were done, they placed the menorah in the window so passerby could see it and resumed the party.

Frieda walked up to him with a plateful of latkes. Francis had never tried them before and timidly bit into one when she offered him one. To his delight, they were amazing. He had to stop himself from consuming the entire plate.

Frieda laughed and daintily ate a latke herself. "Good, aren't they?"

"Yeah." Francis said. "That was cool, by the way. Those prayers. I didn't know they were in another language."

Frieda smiled. "Thanks. It takes a couple of years at Hebrew school to learn them but once you do, you never forget."

Francis smiled back. "So when do you go back to Dakota?"

"Two days. We're just here for the weekend. My dad has to work."

"Oh." Francis said.

Frieda frowned. "What?"

"I just wanted to hang out with you some more." Francis said.

Frieda smiled. "That's so sweet."

They smiled at each other for a couple of minutes before one of Frieda's aunts marched up and demanded to be introduced to Francis. Before long, all of Frieda's relatives were shaking Francis' hand or kissing him on the cheek, telling him how handsome he was and how glad they were that he was here. Frieda's bubbie almost burst into tears when he told her he liked her latkes.

Frieda finally took pity on him and pulled him away from her overbearing relatives. They found themselves outside on the stoop. Her cousin lived in the upscale downtown area of Metroville. Most apartment buildings on the block were decorated nicely and the area was well lit. It was nothing like Francis' old neighborhood.

Francis leant against the handrail and looked up at the sky. It had started to snow while they were inside. Light fluffy flakes drifted down around them. Francis opened his mouth to try and catch a snowflake on his tongue.

Frieda giggled at him before jumping down the steps and twirling around in the snow. Francis watched her and thought she looked beautiful in the glow of the streetlights with the snow falling and her scarf whipping around her.

Frieda stopped and looked up at him. "Thank you for coming tonight. This year has actually been pretty fun." Her breath puffed into a cloud in front of her.

"No problem." Francis said. "Better than sitting at home babysitting."

"You were sweet with that baby." Frieda said, playing with the tassels on her scarf. "It was very cute."

"Hey, I am not cute." Francis scoffed.

"Yes you are." Frieda argued.

"You're cute." Francis retorted.

Frieda blushed.

Francis walked down the steps and approached Frieda. "It's true you know. You are cute."

Frieda's blush deepened but she smiled. "Thank you."

They were very close now. Their noses were almost touching. Francis reached up and ran the back of his hand over Frieda's cheek. She was cold. She leaned into him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "You're hot." She murmured.

Francis smirked. He didn't know if she was referring to his body heat or his looks, but either way she was right.

Francis closed the gap between them and kissed her. It was a light, sweet kiss. Testing the waters. Francis pulled back. He wanted to see what Frieda would do next. He didn't want to push her.

Frieda had a curious look in her eye. She glanced up at Francis and put a hand on the back of his neck, pulling his head down to kiss him again. The snow swirled around them and melted when they touched Francis' skin.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Oh the fluff. The fluffy fluff that is fluff. Tis so fluffy. IT'S SO FLUFFY I'M GONNA DIE! You may have noticed I did not update on Tuesday as per usual. Or you may not have. I don't know how closely you're following this story. The thing is, the instant I got home from college, I stopped writing. I managed to get this out at least and not _too_ late. Word of warning. From here on out, updates may be sporadic. Just so you know. I get lazy when I'm not doing anything, which is when you would think I would write more, but I guess not. Since you haven't heard from me in a while, guess what? I cried at Toy Story 3. And so did my Dad. Best movie of the summer.

BTW, I know he's probably too old to play a high schooler nowadays, but I would love if Channing Tatum could play Francis in a Static Shock movie. I was thinking about it because Coach Carter was on today. He would be so perfect.

That is all.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	15. Chapter 15: Ghosts of Christmas Past

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Fifteen: Ghosts of Christmas Past**

"Hit the fucking 'A' button!"

"I am!"

"Tell that to Bowser!"

Francis threw his remote control down and glared at Virgil. "Either you want to save the princess or you don't. Which is it Sparky?"

Virgil fumed back at the pyro. "Keep playing Hothead. I know what I'm doing."

Violet shook her head in wonderment at the two bickering teenaged boys. "You take your video games way too seriously."

Francis scooped his controller up and scowled, smashing at the 'Start' button with his thumb. "I don't like to lose."

Violet rolled her eyes and resumed reading her magazine. "Yeah. I got that."

"Ready?" Virgil asked as the game restarted and the Mario and Luigi appeared on the screen, ready to face off with their nemesis once more.

"Let's kick some dyno ass." Francis growled.

On the coffee table, Francis' phone vibrated. Violet scooped it up. "Oooh, a text from Frieda."

Francis startled and whipped around to face Violet. "Give that to me."

"Let's see what it says." Violet cackled evilly and opened the text.

"Dude." Virgil said, still concentrated on the game. Explosions and fireballs danced across the screen. Mario stood stock still, Luigi fighting a one-sided battle. "Dude!" Virgil shouted, trying to get Francis to pay attention. Bowser squished Mario and laughed at the screen. Game Over.

Virgil threw his controller at Francis. "Dude, what the hell?"

"Sorry." Francis got to his feet. "Give that to me." He advanced towards Violet.

She already had the text open. "_Had a lot of fun last night. Call me_." Violet quirked an eyebrow at Francis. "What did you two do last night?"

"None of your business." Francis flushed a bright red and made a grab for the phone. Violet kept it out of his reach.

"Give it!" Francis leapt at her. Violet yelped and scrambled to get out of the pyro's grasp. They chased each other around the room. Francis ended up on one side of the coffee table, Violet on the other. They circled each other warily.

"Hey Helen." Francis waved at the doorway. Violet turned to look and Francis jumped over the table, snatching his phone out her hand.

Violet stomped her foot in irritation. "You jerk."

Francis pocketed the phone and stuck his tongue out at Violet.

"Real mature." Violet crossed her arms.

"So what did you and Frieda do last night? You went to her cousin's house for a party didn't you?" Virgil asked, switching the TV to a sports channel.

Francis fell backwards over the armrest and lay sideways in the chair. "Yeah."

"Well…" Violet motioned for Francis to continue.

"Well nothing." Francis scowled. "It's none of your business."

Violet studied Francis' face for a moment. "You kissed her, didn't you?"

Francis didn't answer but his face darkened into a deeper shade of red and he coughed uncomfortably.

"You did! You totally kissed her!" Violet screamed in delight, hugging a pillow to her chest. "And she liked it!"

"Knock it off." Francis muttered.

Virgil rocked back and forth on his butt, grinning up at Francis. "Awww, that's soooo cute."

"Shut up." Francis grabbed a pillow and threw it at Virgil.

The younger boy grabbed it and hit Francis on the leg with it. "I'm surprised. It only took you four months."

"So how was it? I bet it was romantic." Violet sighed dreamily.

Francis buried his face in the cushion. "I hate you guys."

* * *

"Francis!" Dash burst through Francis' bedroom door and leaped onto the bed, jumping up and down over the teen's sleeping form. "Francis! You gotta get up! Mom says we can't do presents 'till everyone's in the living room! C'mon!"

Francis rolled onto his back and squinted up at Dash, then over at his alarm clock. He groaned. "It's seven in the morning."

"But it's Christmas!" Dash shouted too loudly for Francis' liking. "C'mon!" Dash pulled at one of Francis' arm. The pyro didn't budge. He actually cracked a smile at Dash's efforts.

"Get off me Shorty. I'll get up." Francis dislodged the little boy from his arm and sat up, swinging the covers off himself. He yawned noisily and stretched his arms and back.

Dash frowned. "Well hurry. I hate waiting."

Francis chuckled quietly. "Yeah, whatever. Go away."

Dash obeyed and sped off, presumably to the living room where the Christmas tree was situated with dozens of sparkling presents beneath it.

Francis threw on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and swept a comb through his hair. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He needed a shave, red stubble crept along his jawline and up to his sideburns. He'd deal with that later. Francis padded out of his room in sock feet and walked into the living room.

Everyone was already there. Bob was in his armchair and Helen and Lucius had the couch, Helen with a sleepy Jack-Jack on her lap. Violet, Dash, and Virgil were sitting on the floor, watching a claymation Christmas special. Everyone had a mug in hand, for the kids it was hot chocolate and for the adults coffee.

They looked up when Francis entered. "Morning. Drink?" Helen pointed at the coffee table where a mug was waiting for him. Violet patted the carpet beside her. Francis settled down next to her and grabbed his drink. The marshmallows floating on top hadn't quite dissolved yet. Francis drank those first and then held the warm mug in his hands.

Dash was practically vibrating with excitement. "Can we open presents now?"

"Yeah, I think we're all here." Bob said, sitting forward and laying his mug on the table.

Lucius turned down the volume on the TV.

Dash whooped in delight and reached for a present.

"Hold on one second mister." Helen stopped her son. "You know the rules. We go by youngest."

Dash frowned at Jack-Jack. "No fair."

"Pass a present this way." Helen said.

Virgil found a present with Jack-Jack's name on it and handed it to Helen, who opened it on behalf of her youngest child. It was a couple of new picture books from Lucius.

"Aww, thanks Lucius." Helen smiled.

"No problem." Lucius smiled. He looked over at Dash. "Okay, _now_ it's your turn Speedy."

"Yes!" Dash searched for a present with his name on it. He tore the wrapping apart and stuck the bow on Violet's forehead. "Aw." It was a sweater.

"Dashiell Parr." Helen scolded.

Dash rolled his eyes. "Wow, neat sweater. Thanks." He said, heavy on the sarcasm.

"Let's see you try it on." Bob said.

Dash reluctantly pulled the sweater on over his pajamas and crossed his arms petulantly.

Virgil laughed. "Don't worry. You've got more presents coming."

"They'd better be good." Dash muttered.

"Okay V. You're up." Lucius gestured for his son to take his turn. Virgil unwrapped a new video game he'd wanted for months from Helen and Bob, whom he thanked profusely. He had his phone out and was texting Richie the good news before Violet had even found her present. She got a package of nail polish and a new necklace from her parents.

"Okay Francis. Your turn." Bob said.

"Huh?" Francis looked up startled. "My turn?"

"Yeah. Open your present." Violet handed him a gift with his name on the tag.

Francis took it warily. "You got me a present?"

"I think there are several with your name on it." Lucius smiled.

"But I…I didn't get you guys anything." Francis stammered. He held the present gingerly, as though it would bite him.

"That's okay." Helen shrugged.

Francis couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a Christmas present, or even celebrated the holiday. Hell, he didn't even know if he was Christian. His mom had never told him. He'd always let Christmas fly by every year, appreciating the decorations that made his otherwise depressing neighborhood somewhat festive and the spirit of goodwill that made shopowners easier to rob during the winter when he needed cash the most. He wasn't sure what to do now.

He unwrapped the gift slowly and stared at the deluxe mechnics kit that must have cost a pretty penny. It had almost every tool imaginable. He could do all sorts of work on the bike with this stuff, maybe even the others cars on the garage. Francis could already feel the wrench in his hand. He looked up at the adults who were smiling down at him. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome." Helen said.

Lucius clapped his hands together. "With the kids out of the way, I believe it's my turn. Hand me one of those, the biggest one please."

After all the presents were unwrapped and thanks expressed, Helen and Lucius went into the kitchen to fix breakfast while everyone else sat around the TV, playing with their new toys and watching some more TV specials. Bob bounced Jack-Jack up and down on his knee, a Santa hat on his head. Francis looked around the room and smiled. This felt good, it felt nice.

He'd gotten some books, a couple of movies, some sports equipment, and a few clothes to go along with his mechanics kit. He'd never gotten so many things all at once before. Not even on his birthday.

"How you doing kid?" Bob looked over.

"Fine. Good." Francis smiled. "Real good."

The rest of the day passed by in a blur. There was a huge breakfast, a snowball fight, a trip to the sledding hill in the park, and an even huger dinner.

Everyone in the Sanctum went to bed happy, full, and warm.

* * *

_The door creaked open, spilling a little light into the dark room. A woman silently creeped in, her hands on her chest. She stared at the little boy asleep in the bed. The crack of light from the doorway fell across his face, illuminating his fiery red hair, which had tumbled over his forehead in his sleep._

_The woman tiptoed nearer and brushed a lock of hair away from the boy's eyes. She smiled softly at him, her hand lingering on his cheek._

_Suddenly, the boy stirred. He blinked blearily, struggling to focus on the silhouette standing over him. "Mom?"_

"_Shh." The woman sat on the bed beside her son, smoothing the covers around him. "Go back to sleep."_

"_What're you doing?" The boy yawned. It was the middle of the night. The only sound was their whispering. _

_The woman looked around the small, barren room. It was temporary, as soon as she came back from this last mission, she and her son would move to a house of their own. She would get a job and he would go to school and their lives would be normal. She smoothed a strand of her own red hair behind her ear._

_One of the boy's arms crept out from under the covers and reached clumsily for her hand. "Why're you wearin' that?" He grabbed her hand and examined her Supersuit, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He'd never seen her in uniform. He was too young to understand what that meant. _

_The woman bent over and kissed her son's forehead, smiling at him. He sleepily smiled back. "I'm going away for a little while."_

"_How long?" The boy held back a yawn and tried to sit up. His mother held his shoulder down and he was too tired to protest. She busied herself with making sure he was comfortable. She fluffed the pillow beneath his head and wrapped the comforter around him. The boy settled back into the mattress, eyes struggling to stay open. _

"_A few days. Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it." The woman sounded so sure of herself the boy found no reason to question her. Not that he would anyway. She'd never lied to him before._

"_Okay." The boy murmured. Sleep was overtaking him._

"_While I'm gone, I want you to behave yourself, okay? Listen to what Dicker tells you to do. No more setting things on fire." _

_The boy nodded, a grin sliding over his little face. "Okay."_

"_You promise?" The woman held her hand out, pinky finger extended._

_The boy wormed his arm out from under the covers and linked pinkies with his mother. "I promise."_

_The woman smiled. "Good boy." She stood up and became a shadow in the light from the doorway. The boy couldn't make out her face. He squinted at her. Her figure was fading, the light was dimming. He was drifting back to sleep._

"_I'll see you in a few days Francis." The woman said. She was at the doorway, turning to leave._

_Francis wanted to call out to her, to make her stay. He didn't want her to go. But he was so tired he couldn't make himself move, couldn't even keep his eyes open. His mother shut the door behind her, bathing the room in darkness._

_

* * *

_

Francis bolted upright in bed, gasping for breath. He was tangled in his sheets and he whipped them away from his body in a sudden fury. He held his head in his hands, struggling to ease his heavy-breathing.

He hadn't had that dream in a while. Francis stood up and groped for the light switch. He was slick with sweat. Francis leaned against the cool wall for a moment, gathering his thoughts. In the dream, he hadn't seen his mother's face. He couldn't remember what she looked like, but he remembered her voice. The way she had soothed him that night, the last time he had seen her alive. Francis remembered how she'd coaxed him back to sleep, even when he'd had more questions to ask her. How safe he'd felt. Then Francis remembered that she'd lied to him. She hadn't come back in a few days. She hadn't come back at all.

Francis punched the wall, then again. The crackling of the dry wall was the most satisfying sound he'd ever heard. He stopped and listened. Francis didn't want to wake the Parrs. They'd come rushing in, all concerned and wanting to touch him, wanting to comfort him. Francis didn't want that.

The only sound was his own harsh breathing.

Francis straightened and ran a hand over his forehead, wiping the sweat away. He opened his bedroom door and tiptoed into the hallway.

* * *

Lucius had always been a deep sleeper. When Virgil had been a baby, his wife had complained that she always had to be the one to soothe the baby when he woke crying in the night because Lucius never stirred. Perhaps, that is why, when Lucius woke at three in the morning to a light tapping on his bedroom door, he was surprised he'd even heard the sound. In fact, he thought he was dreaming and turned over to go back to sleep.

When the tapping persisted, Lucius sat up and rubbed his eyes. It couldn't be Bob or Helen. If they needed him in the middle of the night it was usually for a crime and the alarm would go off. That was loud enough to wake him no matter how deeply he was sleeping.

It could be Virgil, although Lucius had no idea why his son would need him at three in the morning.

Lucius groaned and swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his bathrobe.

Lucius' room was different from the other bedrooms in the Sanctum. It was more of a suite. Lucius' bedroom connected to a living area with a couch, a TV, and a few bookcases. He also had his own bathroom. It was nice to have his own space because, as much as he loved the Parr family, sometimes he and Virgil needed to be on their own for a few hours.

Lucius opened the door and was surprised to find Francis standing there. The teen was only wearing a pair of sweatpants and a wife beater. He looked awful, there were dark circles under his eyes and Francis was paler than usual. He was staring at the ground but looked up briefly when Lucius answered the door.

"Francis. What's the matter?" Despite being half-asleep Lucius could tell something was wrong.

"I…I don't…" Francis trailed off. "I dunno."

"Come in." Lucius stepped aside to let the pyro enter. Francis stepped in and stared at the room. "Do you want to sit down?" Lucius gestured at the couch.

Francis stood frozen in the doorway. He gulped and rubbed his arm nervously.

"C'mon." Lucius guided Francis over and sat him down. "What's wrong?"

Francis ran a hand through his disheveled spikes. "I…I had a dream."

"Okay." Lucius sat down next to the teenager. "What was this dream about?"

Francis hesitated. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, forcing the words out. "My mom."

"Ah." Lucius nodded. "This wasn't a good dream was it?"

Francis shook his head.

"Do you want to tell me what happened in the dream?"

Francis shook his head again. "No." Another deep breath. "I just…I wanted. Shit." He leaned his head back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling. "I don't know what I want. I don't know what to say."

Lucius looked at the boy beside him. Francis looked very young and very vulnerable. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to."

"Okay." Francis closed his eyes again.

"Can I ask you a question?" Lucius said.

"Sure." Francis said softly.

"Why did you come to me?"

Francis sat forward and turned to look at Lucius. "This is gonna sound weird, I guess, but you knew my mom. And my dad. You knew them best, right?"

Lucius nodded. "I was very good friends with both of them. We were a team. Sure, things got sort of messy towards the end when relationships got complicated, but they were my friends." He stared at Francis. "They were very good people."

"That's what people keep saying." Francis sighed. "But then why'd she leave?"

"I don't understand." Lucius said.

"Why did she leave me?" Francis asked, a quiver in his voice. "I was just a kid. She had to have known there was a chance she wouldn't come back, why would she leave. Wasn't I important enough to keep her there?"

Lucius reached over and put a hand on Francis' shoulder. The teen flinched away from the touch. Lucius pulled his hand back. "I'm sure you were more than important enough. You probably meant everything to Blaze. Just, sometimes, Supers hear that calling and that can't get it out of their systems. It's like an itch they can't scratch. One more mission and they'll be done. They just need that last thrill." Francis didn't look as if he understood. Lucius continued. "Take Bob, for instance. Do you think he loves his family?"

Francis nodded. "Yeah."

"More than anything. He would die to keep his family safe but even he got caught up in the allure of one last mission." Lucius watched Francis' face.

Comprehension flickered across the boy's features. "Okay. I get it." Francis said. "Like a druggie."

Lucius faltered at the comparison. "I…yeah I guess so."

"It's like they could be the ultimate family guy but when that craving hits that's all they can think about." Francis was tracing circles on the coffee table with his socked foot.

"Yes. It's like that." Lucius agreed. "It doesn't make the person bad and it doesn't make the people who need them not important enough for their attention."

Francis nodded. "Yeah."

The two sat in silence for a few minutes. Francis broke the quiet. "I don't remember what she looked like." He laughed bitterly. "I don't even know what her real name was."

Lucius looked surprised. Francis shrugged. "No one ever told me."

"You really don't know anything about your parents, do you?" Lucius asked slowly.

Francis shook his head.

"Do you want to?" Lucius asked.

"How?" Francis responded.

Lucius stood up and walked over to one of the bookshelves. He searched for a few minutes until he found a leather-bound photo album. He returned to the couch and flipped the album open. Lucius searched through several pages until he found what he was looking for. He passed the album to Francis.

Francis looked at the photos. They were of three young people, in their early to mid-twenties. They were all very strong looking and wore matching uniforms with the Greek letter beta emblazoned across their chests. The Beta Force. Francis' eyes widened. Lucius stood in the middle of the three, smiling widely at the camera. To his left was a thin woman with red hair. She was smiling coyly, one hand sassily on her hip, the other around Lucius' shoulders. His mom. To the right was a muscular man with bright green eyes who seemed to be forcing a smile. His dad. Francis stared dumbly at the photo for what seemed like hours.

After a few minutes Lucius reached over and turned the page. More photos of his parents. His mom at a computer. His dad throwing a football to Lucius. The three of them in their secret lair. One of his mom hamming around with his dad, teasing him. She was draped over one of his burly shoulders, threatening to pull his mask off. His dad looked exasperated but was genuinely smiling. His mom was enjoying the attention. Francis looked at that one for a long time. He wished they weren't wearing masks, so he could see their full faces, but this was better than nothing.

"I mean it when I say you're parents were good people. Annoying at times, sure. Tempermental, oh yeah. Good-hearted and loyal, to the bone." Lucius ruffled Francis' messy hair and grinned. "All traits they passed onto you."

Francis looked up for the first time in a long time and returned the grin, his eyes glassy. "Yeah?"

"You bet kid. I see both your parents in you."

"Cool." Francis turned away and ran his forearms across his eyes quickly. He handed the album back. "Thanks."

"No problem."

They got up and Francis walked towards the door.

"If you ever want to talk about your parents, or about anything, I'm here. Bob and Helen too." Lucius said.

"Yeah, thanks." Francis said. He opened the door.

"Wait!" Lucius pulled one of the photos out of the album and handed it to Francis. It was the one of his mom hanging onto his dad. "Merry Christmas."

When Francis got back to his room the first thing he did was put the photo in his desk drawer, between two pages of a book where it wouldn't be ruined. He shut the drawer and crawled back into bed, quickly falling into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Look! An update! That didn't take _too _long right? One of the weirdest things about fanfiction is having to write about Christmas when it is about 90 degrees outside. It's hard to do. When I thought about this chapter when I was first conceiving the idea for this story, all I had was that dream. I knew I wanted to include that dream. I built the rest of the chapter around it. What do you guys think?

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	16. Chapter 16: Blood

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Sixteen: Blood**

With the holidays over, the residents of the Sanctum went back to their everyday lives. The kids resumed school and all that came with it, including massive amounts of homework.

"This doesn't seem fair." Francis complained, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "This thing weighs ten pounds more than it should because of all the books."

Virgil grimaced. "Yeah? Imagine how I feel. I'm in all the advanced courses; we get more homework than you do normally. My back's killing me."

"Oh relax, you two." Violet walked up to them. The teachers always load up before finals. You should be used to it."

"Where've you been?" Francis demanded, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "School got out like, an hour ago. I've been waiting."

Violet blushed. "Sorry, there was something I had to do."

"What?" Virgil asked.

"Nothing. We should get going, the weather guy said it was going to snow later." Violet hurried off towards the parking lot.

Francis and Virgil both looked up at the gray sky. Snow did seem likely.

"Good luck flying in that." Francis smirked and waved over his shoulder as he turned away.

Virgil frowned. "Gee thanks."

Francis trotted to catch up to Violet. She was walking swiftly towards the motorcycle with her books clutched to her chest, her head down and her black hair whipping around her face in the cold wind.

"You okay?" Francis asked when he got closer.

Violet nodded hurriedly. "Of course. Just got a lot on my mind."

Francis didn't quite buy that but he didn't know how to pry further so he let it go. "Whatever." He shrugged.

* * *

Bob dropped a load of books down onto the counter in front of Francis. The pyro looked up from his Auto magazine and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Your next step in training." Bob said proudly, fanning the books across the counter and swiping the magazine away.

Francis frowned and looked at the covers. Sociology, Criminology, Computer Programming, Aviation, Conflict Resolution, Philosophy, International Affairs, the list went on and on. All the books were thick and academic looking. "What, did you hold up a junior college?" Francis scoffed.

"Ha ha." Bob replied humorlessly. He tapped the sociology book with one finger. "All of these books contain information it is crucial to know as a super hero. We're not all just muscle you know."

Francis looked skeptical. He picked up the Aviation book. "Why do I need to know this?"

"That's just the basic training information. Once you've mastered that, we'll take you up in the sky for some hands-on experience."

Francis' jaw dropped. "You're gonna teach me how to fly a plane?"

"Not for a good long while." Bob explained. "You will study these books in addition to your school work. Every few weeks you will be quizzed on the information. If you don't pass, you take it again until you have it memorized."

"Wait, hold on." Francis said. "I can barely keep up with my regular school stuff now. How am I supposed to do this too?"

Bob shrugged. "You'll figure it out. Violet and Virgil have been doing it for years now. Even Dash cracks open an Urban Studies book every now and again."

Francis still looked a bit blind-sided. Bob reached over the counter and handed the teen his magazine back. "Relax, you're not being graded. We're not going to hold you back if you fail a couple times. Think of this as supplemental."

Bob gave Francis a reassuring smile and left the kitchen. Francis leveled a glare at the books. "All I want to do is punch some guys, light some shit on fire. Not read about…" Francis grabbed one of the books and flipped it open to a random page. "…ethnocentrism. What the hell is that?"

* * *

Francis was again waiting around outside the school for Violet, who was running late again. He frowned at the doorway. Where was she? It was cold and he wasn't a patient person.

"Hey dude." Richie held out a fist for Francis to pound.

"Hey." Francis returned the greeting. "What's up?"

"Me and Virgil were going to go down the music store, wanna come?" Richie asked, shoving his hands back into his sweatshirt pocket.

Francis looked back at the doors. "One sec."

He pulled out his cell phone and sent a text to Violet.

_Where the hell r u?_

The reply was quick.

_**Talking 2 a teacher about something. It'll be a while.**_

Francis typed a message back.

_Im going 2 the music store w/ R n V, meet me there_

_**Ok**_

Francis pocketed his phone and smiled at Richie. "Sure, let's go."

The two set off down the sidewalk into the center of Dakota's downtown area. Despite it being the middle of the day, there weren't very many people out. The frigid weather was driving them all inside.

There was a music store that was popular with the high school crowd that always got pretty packed after school. Virgil waved to them from the back of the store where he was sampling a hip-hop album.

Virgil held the headphones out to Richie who put them on and began nodding to the beat. He smiled. "You do not lie dude. This is a great song."

"Told ya." Virgil grinned. He nodded at Francis. "Hey."

"What're you guys listening to?" Francis asked.

"A new artist, his name is Ice Pack." Virgil explained. "The lyrics aren't very good, but the beat is sick."

Richie nodded his approval, still engrossed in the song.

Francis started flipping through some CDs, just browsing. Suddenly, he was shoved hard from behind. He crashed into the CD shelves and several clattered to the floor. Francis spun around in a fury and was greeted by Wade's grinning face.

Francis groaned. "Not you."

"Yeah me. Didja miss me?" Wade had several of his goons behind him.

"Not even a little." Francis deadpanned. "What do you want?" He felt Virgil and Richie shift beside him, ready to back him up if necessary. People in the store began to take notice and move away.

"Just wanna catch up is all." Wade said innocently. "I hear you and little Miss Uptight got it on over break."

Francis scowled, his fists clenching at his sides. "Shut up."

"Oooh, so you did. Didja show her a good time? Pull that stick outta her ass?" Wade leaned in closer, a grin lighting up his face. "I gotta know, does the carpet match the curtains?"

Francis punched Wade so hard he almost knocked himself over.

The other teen's head flew back with a crack. His crew had to catch him from falling over.

Virgil put a restraining hand on Francis' arm. "Relax. Let's get out of here." He tried to pull Francis away but the older boy didn't budge. He was still glaring at Wade, practically trembling with rage.

"Don't you dare fucking talk about Frieda like that." Francis growled.

Wade straightened himself up, wiping the trickle of blood away from the corner of his mouth. "Or what? You throw a pansy-ass punch." That was a lie and they both knew it. Another punch like that one and Wade would be passed out on the floor. Francis had done it before.

"Hey! You boys! Get out of my store if you want to fight." The man behind the cash register shouted at them. "You're driving all my customers away. Go on, get out."

"Sounds good to me." Francis said.

"Me too." Wade agreed.

They walked out of the store. Wade led them to an alley a few streets away. One of his guys stayed at the entrance to the alley, acting as a look out in case a cop happened to walk by.

Richie and Virgil stood awkwardly behind Francis, not sure what to do or what was happening. Wade had considerably more guys behind him.

Francis frowned. "This is one of the reasons why I miss having my own crew. I was never outnumbered."

"So let's make it fair." Wade offered. "Just you and me Francis."

"Fine."

"Francis, you can't fight." Virgil reminded the other Super.

"Shut up Virgil." Francis knew he was breaking a house rule, but he couldn't let Wade get away with insulting Frieda like that. Plus, if he backed off now, he'd lose any shred of respect anybody in Dakota had for him. That was not acceptable. If Wade wanted a fight so bad, he was going to get one.

"Rules?" Francis asked.

"Let's make it interesting." Wade grinned. "First blood."

Francis nodded. "Fine by me."

"First blood?" Richie whispered to Virgil on confusion.

"Two minutes." Wade said and then turned to his crew to talk strategy.

Francis turned to face Virgil and Richie, stretching his arms and neck.

"What's first blood?" Virgil asked. There was concern in his voice.

"Whoever bleeds first loses." Francis said succinctly. He took his jacket off and handed it to Richie, leaving him in a t-shirt and jeans. He jumped up and down a few times to warm up.

"This is an awful idea." Virgil said.

"If you guys get caught, you'll get arrested." Richie warned.

"I know." Francis said. "But I gotta."

Virgil nodded. "Then at least kick his ass."

Francis grinned. "Sure thing."

"You ready Francis?" Wade asked.

Francis turned around to face his foe. Every time Wade said his name, it sounded like an insult. It pissed Francis off. "Yeah."

"Ring the bell." Wade smirked.

"Ding ding." Francis muttered. They circled each other warily, scouting out the other's offense.

The spectators watched anxiously, occasionally throwing in a cheer for whomever they were supporting.

Francis lunged first, landing a quick uppercut to Wade's chin. The bigger teen was knocked off balance but came back with a clubbing blow that was surprisingly speedy. It caught Francis in the shoulder and he lurched sideways, ducking away from the follow up punch.

Francis landed a few body shots before backing off and going on the defensive. Wade was throwing punch after punch at Francis' face and he had to cover up or block most of them. A punch to the nose and the fight was over.

Wade huffed in rage and shoved Francis backwards into his crew. They grabbed at Francis and attacked. One kicked him in between the legs while the others hammered at his back and neck. Virgil and Richie shouted protests but were held back. Francis tried to pull away but then they shoved him forward into a straight right from Wade.

Francis dropped to the ground, feeling his face for blood. Luckily it had connected with his eye, no blood. There was a dull throb from between his legs and Francis winced before sitting up. Those bastards like to fight dirty.

Wade was standing over him, chuckling softly. "Oops, I thought I told them to stay outta this."

"How about that." Francis muttered, standing up slowly. "You oughta train 'em better."

There were some outraged shouts from behind him, which Francis ignored. Wade's eyes flashed dangerously. "You just don't know when to keep your mouth shut do you?"

"Guess not." Francis agreed. He leapt forward and caught Wade across the face with a punch.

Wade staggered backwards. No blood. Francis growled and attacked again, sweeping Wade's feet out from under him. The large teen went down to the pavement with a thud. Before he could sit up, Francis stomped on his face.

Wade howled and put his hands over his face, curling up in pain.

Francis backed off, glancing anxiously at the gang to see if they would attack in retaliation.

Wade finally sat up, and yes, there was blood. Lot's of it. Wade was bleeding from the nose and from the mouth. Francis might have knocked a few teeth out.

Wade was furious, he sputtered a string of nonsensical swear words at Francis through the blood before lunging for a glass beer bottle lying on the ground beside him. He grasped it by the neck and smashed the end against the pavement. The bottom broke off, leaving a jagged ring of glass.

Francis' eyes widened as he realized what Wade was going to do. He might have lost the fight, but he was going to make sure Francis wound up bleeding too.

Someone grabbed him from behind and Francis threw an elbow back, satisfied when he felt bone crack against bone. Those few seconds of distraction allowed Wade to get to his feet and charge at Francis. The heavyset teen easily knocked Francis to the ground and he jerked the jagged bottle at Francis' face.

Francis ducked to the left but he felt the cold slice of the glass cut through the skin on the side of his head. Wade reared back to strike again but suddenly Virgil was there, wrapping both of his arms around Wade's, holding him back.

It would have escalated into a full-on brawl if the look out hadn't come tearing up the alley screaming, "Cops!"

Wade's crew scattered, leaving their wounded leader behind. Richie pulled Virgil away and they ran, thinking Francis would be right behind them.

Wade jumped off of Francis and tried to run away but a herd of police officers came charging down the alley and in a moment, Wade was on his stomach, hands being cuffed behind him.

One of the officers knelt next to Francis and pulled him up, shoving the pyro up against a wall. Francis' arms were pulled behind him and handcuffs were clapped over his wrists. Francis leant his head against the cool of the wall and tuned out the officer rambling off the Miranda Rights.

* * *

Francis was sitting in the Dakota Police Station, handcuffed to a chair, waiting for the Parrs to show up. His head and back hurt. One of the cops had handed him a towel to mop up the blood when they'd first arrived and Francis was holding the cloth over his temple with his free hand, trying not to notice the trickles of blood that slipped down his hand and slid all the way down his arm.

Wade had been released on bail already. One of his goons had arrived with a wad of cash shortly after they had been booked.

Francis leaned back in the chair and let out a sigh. He stretched his legs in front of him. At least Richie and Virgil had gotten away. Francis didn't want them to get in trouble. They hadn't even done anything.

Making the call to the Parrs had probably been the worst thing he'd ever had to do. Helen had cried, Bob had cursed. He was in some serious trouble. Not to mention, he'd left Violet at school without a ride. He'd have to apologize for that later too.

"Hi, we're here for Francis Stone."

Francis looked up. Helen and Bob were at the desk. The cop there rifled through some papers before finding the right one.

"You're his legal guardians?"

"Yes." Bob answered.

The cop jotted their names down and looked at Bob's driver's license for confirmation. "Since he's a minor he'll be released into your custody. No charges are being pressed although this will go into his official file."

"We understand." Bob said shortly.

"Then sign here." Papers were passed around and signed.

An officer came and uncuffed Francis before leading him out into the lobby where Bob and Helen were waiting. His wallet and phone were given back to him. They said he could keep the towel. He kept it pressed against his head.

Francis trudged up to Bob and Helen, waiting for the yelling to begin. They hardly looked at him. "Let's go." Bob said gruffly.

Francis followed them to the car. Violet was sitting in the back. She looked at him anxiously when he slouched into the seat next to her.

The drive back to Metroville was silent. Francis almost wished there had been yelling.

"I'll call Doc." Helen said when they pulled into the driveway. "He needs stitches."

Bob nodded and motioned for Francis to follow him.

Bob had Francis sit on the edge of the bathtub while he looked at the cut. It was deep and long. The cut started near his eye and ended under his ear. It had scabbed over by then so Bob took a wet washcloth and dabbed at it to clean it up a little for Doc so he could stitch the skin together.

While Bob tended to the cut, Francis washed his hands and arms of blood and dirt.

After a few tense minutes, Bob sat back on his haunches and looked at Francis. "You do know you're grounded for forever, right?"

"I sorta figured." Francis muttered.

"At least tell me you had a good reason for getting into a fight and being arrested?"

"Actually, yeah." Francis said.

"Did you win?"

"Sort of."

"Doc's on his way." Helen said, leaning against the doorframe.

"Good." Bob got to his feet. "That's a nasty cut. How'd you get it?"

"Bottle." Francis said.

Bob and Helen both winced.

Helen went to the medicine cabinet and found a bottle of aspirin. She tapped two out and filled a glass of water, then handed Francis all three. He swallowed the pills gratefully.

"Are you truly okay?" She asked with worry.

"Yeah." Francis said.

"Good." She slapped him on the chest. "Don't you ever do anything so stupid ever again. Do you understand?"

Francis nodded hurriedly. "Yes Ma'am."

* * *

"You know, I was going to be mad at you for ditching me." Violet plopped onto the couch next to Francis. "But I don't think that's even still relevant at this point."

"Ha ha." Francis muttered. He was resting his newly stitched head on his fist, staring stonily at the TV. He'd expected yelling or threats of calling Dicker. Instead, the Parrs just told him they were disappointed in him and grounded him. Turns out, disappointment is worse than yelling. It made Francis feel ten times worse.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Violet asked.

Francis shifted and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "I'm sure Virgil will fill you in."

"Virgil was there?" Violet asked in confusion.

"Yeah, but don't tell the adults. He didn't do anything. No point in getting in trouble for nothing."

Violet nodded. "I gotcha. No worries." She reached over and traced the edge of the white bandage Doc had taped over the stitches. "Does you're head hurt?"

Francis shrugged. "Not really. Took some meds."

Violet tapped under her own cheek. "That's pretty."

Francis knew the bruise under his eye was getting more colorful by the minute. "You should see the other guy."

Violet laughed. "Well, I'm glad you're okay. Is there ever a time when you're not bruised and bleeding? You seem to be in a perpetual state of injury."

"I've noticed." Francis grinned. He finally looked over at Violet. "So what have you been doing after school the last couple of days?"

"Wha…huh?" Violet startled and affixed her gaze on the TV. "I told you, I was seeing some teachers about extra credit."

"And I call bullshit." Francis said bluntly. His grin widened when he noticed a faint blush creep over Violet's face. "Out with it."

Violet looked over her shoulder to make sure no one else was within earshot. "You have to promise not to tell anyone."

Francis lost the grin. Violet was serious. "Okay."

"I…" Violet chuckled humorlessly. "It's probably stupid."

"C'mon, tell me." Francis prodded.

"Itriedoutfortheschoolplay." Violet said in a rush. She ducked her head in embarrassment.

Francis' brow furrowed and he tried to comprehend what Violet had just said. "You…oh." He looked at Violet and burst into laughter.

"I knew you'd laugh. It's stupid. I don't know what I was thinking." Violet got up and started to walk away.

Francis caught her wrist. "I wasn't laughing at you."

"Huh?"

"I was laughing 'cause it's stupid how nervous you are. You'd be really good at that kind of thing." Francis explained.

Violet tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. "You think so?"

"Yeah." Francis said. "So did you get the part?"

Violet sat back down. "I don't know yet. Tryouts were this week and I got a callback but I won't know if I got the part until next week."

"What's the play?" Francis asked.

"Hamlet." Violet said. "I tried out for Ophelia."

"I have no idea who that is." Francis said. "But that's Shakespeare right?"

Violet nodded.

Francis whistled softly in admiration. "Good luck with that."

"Thanks, but you know it's bad luck to say good luck." Violet said with a smile.

"Yeah? What am I supposed to say?"

"Break a leg."

Francis frowned in confusion. "I don't get it, but okay. Break a leg."

"Thanks." Violet grinned at him. "Really."

Francis shrugged. "No problem."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Wow, it's been a long time since I updated. My bad. No bonus points for finding the Rocky reference, although it made me giggle writing it. I got the first blood idea from the WWE. Yeah, it's good for something. That whole extra reading for training thing I thought of a long time ago. I was sitting in Sociology and I thought, I bet superheroes would find this stuff useful. So there. They do. I'd like to promise the next chapter won't take as long to get up but I can't. I'm distracted by Glee returning tonight. It rules my life.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	17. Chapter 17: When the Adults Are Away

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Seventeen: When the Adults Are Away**

Francis woke up the next morning to a splitting headache. He groaned and groped for the bottle of painkillers on his nightstand. He swallowed two and sat up, rubbing his face tiredly. He traced the bandage along the side of his face and grimaced. He'd get a lot of stares at school today, if everyone hadn't already heard about his fight with Wade. Gossip traveled faster than a wildfire at Dakota High School.

Francis' brow furrowed when he thought about Wade. It was a toss-up if the bigger teen would even be at school today, but if he were, he'd want some payback. Francis had technically won the fight, although he'd gotten sliced up in the process. Wade would be looking for retribution.

For the first time since he'd moved in with the Parrs, Francis missed his Glock and switchblade Bob had thrown away. He could really use them right about now.

Francis looked at the alarm clock. He had an hour until he actually needed to get up. The sun hadn't even risen yet. Francis whipped the covers away from his body and stretched, luxuriating in the popping of his muscles. He was pretty sore from yesterday.

He dropped the floor and did some push-ups to loosen himself up and then rolled onto his back to do a few crunches. He felt a lot better after the brief exercise and headed for the shower. An advantage of being up so early was that he didn't have to fight for possession of the bathroom or its limited supply of hot water.

He stripped in the bathroom and stepped into the shower. He made the water as hot as it could go and stood in the spray, careful to keep the area around the bandage as dry as possible.

The bathroom steamed up. Francis did his usual routine and grabbed a towel off the rack, running it through his hair. The red locks stood straight up in the humid room.

Francis rubbed a spot clean on the mirror and examined his face. There was stubble darkening his jaw line. Francis quickly shaved and slipped back into the sweatpants he had slept in so he could go to his room and change. He looked at his reflection in the mirror again and smiled at himself. He felt much better already.

As he passed the kitchen on his way back to his room, Francis spotted Bob at the table reading the newspaper. Francis hesitated for a moment and Bob looked up. He motioned Francis in.

Francis slid into a chair across from Bob.

"Good morning." Bob said, sounding pleasant enough.

"Morning." Francis responded tentatively. He'd been expecting a colder reception after being arrested.

Bob smiled at the teen. "This was taped to my door when I got up." He slid a piece of paper across the table.

Francis regarded it curiously. It was typewritten.

_I thought you should know that Francis' actions yesterday should not be taken as a relapse to his banger ways or even as a violation of house rules. Francis was provoked and only fought after several disparaging remarks about a female friend were made. These remarks were both crude and uncalled for. Francis was defending said female's honor. Any punishment that is being considered should weigh these factors during deliberation._

_A concerned friend and witness_

Francis snorted. Virgil was such a dork.

"Is what that letter says true?" Bob asked.

Francis nodded. "Yeah. It is."

"You wouldn't happen to know who this friend and witness is by any chance?" Bob asked, struggling to hide his amusement.

"Not a clue." Francis and Bob exchanged grins across the table. They both knew who it was, but so long as no one said it out loud, Virgil couldn't get dragged into anything.

"I wish you would have just told us all this yesterday." Bob said.

Francis shrugged. "It didn't seem like you guys were all that interested in hearing it."

Bob shook his head. "You've got to make us listen then. We wouldn't have been so hard on you if we knew you'd done what you did for a good reason. A noble reason even." Bob grinned. "I think we're rubbing off on you."

Francis grimaced. "God I hope not."

Bob laughed. "Keep telling yourself that." He nodded at the bandage on Francis' head. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah. It's not bad."

"Good, but Helen's going to drive you guys to school today anyway. Don't want you driving the freeways with a wound like that."

Francis nodded. "Okay." He got up to leave.

"And don't think just because you're getting away with a warning on this one doesn't mean it's okay to get into fights every time somebody insults your girl." Bob continued.

Francis flushed. "What? She's not my…"

Bob waved his spluttering aside. "Whatever. Part of being a Superhero means keeping a level head. You can't let every little thing get at you. Save it for the big stuff."

"Yeah, okay." Francis agreed.

"Good. Now go get dressed. You're dripping water everywhere."

* * *

Walking into school that day was bit like running onto the field of a major league baseball game wearing only a cap. Everybody stares at you and whispers. They don't even try and hide it. Francis didn't know whether to be flattered or embarrassed. For the most part, people seemed to look at him with awe. One kid stopped him because he wanted to shake his hand. Francis knew his face was burning red. He wasn't used to such positive attention. He awkwardly weaved around well-wishers until he was he got to his locker.

"Wow, the hallways are buzzing my friend." Richie walked up to Francis.

"Not you too." Francis muttered.

"Dude, I was there. I don't need to indulge in gossip. I am an eye witness." Richie smiled. "I expect the school newspaper to come knocking for an exclusive report any minute now."

Francis turned to Richie. "Hey, don't go spreading stuff. People are talking about me enough as it is."

Richie frowned. "People are talking good about you. You're a hero around here. No one's ever stuck up to Wade before. You got in a fight with him and _won_. It's unheard of."

Francis raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I figured. But what do you think's going to happen now? Wade's gonna come back and he's going to be madder than ever. And if he hears everybody talking about what a stud I am it's going to piss him off even more. I do not need that."

"Oh." Richie nodded. "I hadn't thought about that."

"Obviously." Francis dug through his locker for his Science book.

"Well, you don't have to worry about Wade today. He's not here."

Francis looked up. "Really?"

Richie nodded.

"That's good." Francis found the book and threw it into his backpack. He wouldn't have to be looking over his shoulder all day. He shut the locker. "Have you seen Virgil yet?"

"Nah, why?"

"I've gotta thank the dork for saving my ass." Francis grinned.

* * *

Frieda cornered him outside the library before lunch. Francis was expecting a pleasant greeting, something along the lines of, "You're a fantastic kisser, let's go out on a real date and do some more of that."

That is not what she said. Not even close.

"Do you want to explain to me why the entire school is saying you got into a fight with Wade over me?" Frieda had her hands on her hips and was clearly angry about the whole situation.

Francis was taken aback. "I…uh…"

"Is it true?" Frieda crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.

"I…guess." Francis said hesitantly.

Frieda shook her head. "Why?"

Francis raised an eyebrow in confusion. "He was saying all sorts of shitty stuff so I…"

"Not that, you idiot." Frieda huffed. "Why did he think there was something going on between you and me in the first place?"

"Oh." Francis didn't have an answer for that. "I dunno."

"So you haven't been talking to people about what happened over break? Because I find it funny that Wade would just start saying all of that stuff out of the blue. It seems like he would have a reason." Frieda wiped at her eyes. "I don't appreciate being talked about behind my back, I don't know what you've been telling all your friends…"

"Whoa whoa whoa." Francis stopped Frieda mid-sentence. "I didn't tell anyone what happened and I definitely didn't spread rumors about us."

Frieda looked up at him. "You didn't?"

"Nah." Francis shook his head.

"Well then why does everyone seem to know?" Frieda asked. "I'm not used to people talking about me like this. I don't like it."

Francis shrugged. "I have no idea. Honest."

Frieda looked at Francis suspiciously. "You didn't tell _anyone_ about the kiss?"

"No…" Francis stopped. "Well, actually..."

"I knew it." Frieda played with a strand of her hair, nervously twining it around her fingers.

"It was just Virg and Vi. And technically I didn't tell them, they figured it out." Francis explained.

"Oh." Frieda studied the strand of hair. "Okay."

"Are we cool?" Francis asked.

Frieda hesitated and then nodded. "Yes. I was just so flustered this morning when everyone wanted to know what I thought about the fight and I had no idea what they were talking about." She giggled and looked at Francis. "I don't subscribe to the rumor mill. I guess I was one of the last to find out."

Francis shrugged again. "It's not a big deal. People should stop talking about it."

"They will, give it a few days." Frieda assured him. She looped her arm through his and started leading him towards the cafeteria. "And thanks."

"For what?" Francis asked.

Frieda smiled up at him. "For defending my honor."

Francis flushed the color of his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. "No problem."

Frieda hugged his arm. "And who says chivalry is dead?"

* * *

A few days later, Wade had still not returned to school. Francis was on edge but grateful. The bruises and cuts had faded and he could concentrate on school, homework, and wooing Frieda without interruption.

Francis wasn't naïve. He knew Wade would be back soon and he was ready for that. In the meantime, he was enjoying several drama free days.

Violet had indeed gotten the part in the play that she had wanted. That meant rehearsal every day after school. Which by extension meant Francis had to hang around until they were done so he could drive her home.

At first, Francis had been bored out of his mind. They were in the early stages of production so most of the cast didn't know their lines yet. They spent every rehearsal going over a single scene a dozen times until everyone participating could say the lines without a script. This was not very entertaining to watch. Francis took to wandering the hallways or heading to the gym to watch the basketball team practice.

Frieda caught on after a few days that Francis was bored out of his mind after school and volunteered to continue their Spanish tutoring then. Now, Francis and Frieda hunkered down in the library surrounded by their Spanish workbooks as Frieda helped Francis struggled through the tenses and vocabulary. Occasionally, Frieda would bring her camera and take Francis around the school while she took pictures for the newspaper or interviewed people. It was cool to see her in action. Frieda confided in Francis that she wanted to be reporter when she grew up. Francis thought she could definitely do it. She could do anything.

Not only were things peacefully serene in Dakota, Metroville was unusually blissful as well. The adults hadn't gone scurrying off in the middle of the night to stop a crime in weeks. Daytime crime had taken a dip as well and when there was a disturbance, the police could usually handle it by themselves.

So when the West Coast NSA division called to ask the adults to California for a conference, they gave a hesitant yes.

Bob hefted their two suitcases into the car while Helen went over last-minute details with Violet.

Helen was fussing over Jack-Jack. The last time she had left him for the weekend a homicidal lunatic had nearly kidnapped Jack-Jack. She looked up at Violet. "You have all the emergency numbers?"

"They're on the fridge." Violet confirmed.

"Including the number where we'll be staying?" Helen asked.

"Mom, we got it." Violet assured her. "We'll be fine."

"You're not going to follow us this time are you?" Bob asked sharply.

Dash rolled his eyes. "No. What fun would a conference be?" Bob chuckled and ruffled Dash's hair fondly.

"Nobody uses the Loft while we're gone." Lucius said. All the kids nodded. "I mean it Virgil. No late night sessions."

Virgil went wide-eyed.

Lucius grinned. "Yeah, I know about that. Knock it off, I don't want you getting hurt."

"Okay Pops." Virgil agreed.

"Stay out of my office." Bob looked at Francis and smiled.

"What, you don't trust me?" Francis asked with a grin.

"I'll trust you a whole lot more if this weekend goes off without a hitch." Bob said. "That goes for all of you. We're really putting a lot of faith in you. Violet, Francis, Virgil, I expect you three to look after Dash and Jack-Jack and get all of your homework done."

Violet smiled. "Don't worry Dad, we'll be fine."

"Okay. Well." Helen fidgeted with her coat. "There's money in the cookie jar for pizza and remember if you want to call that there's a significant time change."

Lucius laughed. "Yeah, I don't want any phone calls at three in the morning."

"We got it." Virgil said. "Would you guys go already? You're going to miss your flight."

Helen hugged all of the kids. Lucius pulled Virgil into a tight hug.

"See you kids in two days." Bob said.

They got in the car and drove away. The kids watched them leave and exchanged grins. An entire weekend without their parents. No training, no chores, no hassle. Beautiful.

* * *

On Saturday night, Francis was sleeping on the couch while Virgil and Dash played a video game. Violet had put Jack-Jack down for his nap and was in the kitchen, talking on the phone with a friend.

Without warning, the lights went out. The TV screen went black.

"Hey." Dash whined.

Suddenly a loud alarm blared and blinking lights bathed the room in a red glow. Francis jerked awake and fell off the couch, covering his ears. "The hell is that?"

Violet stumbled into the room. "That must be the HQ alarm."

"What?" Virgil shouted.

"The HQ Alarm!" Violet shouted over the blaring noise.

Across the house Jack-Jack woke up and started to cry.

"Well turn it off!" Francis shouted.

"We have to go down to HQ." Violet screamed back.

The four headed down to the basement. The alarm continued to go off; the only light was the red glow.

In the Sanctum's headquarters', the computer screens were flashing with information. A police scanner was crackling with sound.

Virgil found the off switch and the alarm stopped. The lights clicked back on.

Normally, there was an adult down in HQ monitoring the screens during the day so they could head off the alarm before it was activated above ground, disturbing the other members of the Sanctum. During the night, the alarm system only activated in the adult's bedrooms, so only they would be awakened. It was how they were kept aware of important criminal activities.

"So what's the big emergency?" Francis asked.

Violet and Virgil scanned the screens. "Looks like something's happening downtown." Virgil said.

"I'm going to tap into a live news feed." Violet said. She typed something and one of the monitors displayed a news channel. The reporter was gripping the microphone so hard their knuckles were white. She was talking loudly and quickly and every few seconds the camera shook. Over the reporter's shoulder, the sound of people screaming and destruction could be heard.

The reporter said something about rogue Supers. Francis, Virgil, and Violet exchanged worried looks.

Suddenly, the reporter moved aside and the kids got a good look at who was causing all the panic. A huge purple man, who looked to be made out of stone, was smashing his way through the front of a jewelry store. An African-America girl stood next to the man with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. Looming over them both was what appeared to be a shadow. The shadow solidified and took on the shape of a man. He seemed to be directing the destruction. The girl nodded at something the shadow man said and turned to the camera. The reporter whimpered and slid out of the way. The girl blew the camera a seductive kiss and then exhaled. A cloud of something came out of her mouth and enveloped the camera. The image faded to static.

"Whoa." Francis said. "It's a gang of Supers."

"Why'd they have to pick tonight to go on a crime spree?" Violet complained. "Just when Mom and Dad went out of town."

"So?" Dash questioned. "Let's go get them ourselves!"

"We haven't been cleared for active hero duty." Violet argued. "Mom and Dad…"

"…aren't here." Dash finished for her. "We are. C'mon. We can take those jerks."

"I don't know." Violet hesitated.

"I'm with Dash on this one." Virgil said. "Those guys are going to trash the entire downtown area of we don't stop them. Do you think our parents really want to come home to a decimated city?"

"No." Violet acquiesced.

They all looked over at Francis. "What?"

""What do you think we should do?" Virgil asked.

Francis shrugged and looked at the static-filled monitor. "I do have a Supersuit just sitting in my closet gathering dust."

Virgil pumped his fist. "All right. Let's do this!"

Dash jumped in excitement. Yeah!"

"Whoa, hold on Shorty." Francis stopped Dash. "You're not going anywhere."

"Huh?" Dash frowned up at the pyro.

"You have to stay here and watch Jack-Jack." Francis pointed out.

Dash's mouth fell open. "What! No way."

"Francis is right. Someone has to stay here." Violet reasoned.

"Sorry bro." Virgil said.

Dash pouted. "This is not fair."

* * *

Francis tore through downtown Metroville on his motorcycle, Violet clutching him from behind. Virgil flew overhead. All three were in uniform. They were minutes away from the rogue Supers.

Francis clenched the handlebars anxiously. It was the first time since he'd been fitted at Edna Mode's house that he'd worn the complete Supersuit. He'd never used his powers outside of the house and never in any combat simulations. Virgil and Violet had a game plan; they'd been training a lot longer than he had. Francis would just have to follow their leads and try to keep up.

People fleeing from the opposite direction let the teenaged Supers know they were close. The crowd parted for the motorcycle and Francis skid to a stop, putting out one leg to balance the bike. Virgil stopped and hovered above them.

The girl who had been terrorizing the news crew looked up at the new arrivals. She frowned when she saw the Supersuits. "Yo Ebon. Check out the suits."

The shadow man materialized next to her, folding his arms over his dark form. "I wondered when the heroes would show up." He cocked his head and chuckled. "Looks like the JV team." He stalked forward and his purple eyes narrowed into slits. "What, no A team for us? Where's the Incredibles? I wanted to show them what competition looks like."

Virgil scoffed. "I think he's talking about himself." He joked to Francis. The redhead snickered.

Ebon wasn't amused. "Okay kid, you think you can stop us?"

Violet and Francis got off the motorcycle and stood side-by-side. "Pretty damn sure." Francis agreed.

"Hey, Onyx. Get your ass out here." The girl called over her shoulder into the store they had been ransacking. "We're about to have some fun."

The rock man emerged, punching his fist into his hand in anticipation. "Good. I was getting bored."

The girl put her hand on Onyx's arm and smiled up at him before looking over at Ebon. "You want Sparky?"

"Yeah. I'll shut that big mouth of his." Ebon said. "Puff, you take the girl. Onyx, get Red."

Francis frowned. "Red? Is that the best you got?" He looked at Violet. "I'm a little insulted."

Violet frowned at Francis. "Focus. Trash talk is all well and good, but we're about to be in the first serious fight of our Superhero careers. I really want to win this."

Francis nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

Most of the Metroville citizens who had been in the area had cleared out; giving the six Supers room to fight. Police set up a barricade to prevent people from getting in the way. They watched nervously from behind their riot shields.

"Who are these kids?" One cop asked another.

"That looks like the Incredible girl." One replied. "The other one's that Static kid."

"What about that one?" Another asked, pointing at Francis. No on had an answer.

"Must be a newbie."

"I hope they're up for this."

News-copters circled overhead, filming the action. News crews on the ground got as close as they dared.

Onyx charged first. He thundered towards Francis, one fist raised and ready to strike. Francis dove between Onyx's legs and rolled into a crouch behind the rocky behemoth. Onyx stopped in confusion and turned. Francis laughed at him. "That all?"

Onyx bellowed in rage and swung angrily. Francis leant back as the massive fist sailed through the air inches from his face. Francis smirked. Onyx may have brute strength on his side, but Francis was a lot faster.

Onyx paused and gathered himself, exhaling deeply. He cracked his neck and looked Francis up and down. He grinned. "Not bad."

Francis frowned.

The crackling of glass across the street distracted Francis and he looked beyond Onyx to see Virgil grappling with Ebon.

Onyx darted forward and grabbed Francis by the arm. He lifted Francis off the ground, grabbing his leg and holding the pyro above his head. Francis was too shocked to respond. He gaped at Onyx's strength. Onyx threw Francis against a brick wall.

Francis collapsed onto the street, gravel and glass biting into his skin. He rubbed the back of his head to try and knead away the pain. Brick was pretty unforgiving. Onyx rumbled closer. Francis looked up at the approaching behemoth and clambered to his feet. He growled angrily and clenched his fists. Flames leapt up his arms and around his torso. Francis' green eyes blazed red. No more playing around.

Onyx quirked an eyebrow at the latest development.

Francis threw a wall of fire at Onyx. The giant put his arms in front of his face to protect himself and leant into the onslaught. The flames licked around Onyx's frame. Francis pulled back.

Onyx was still standing, smoking but standing. He lowered his arms and smirked at the pyro. "Is that all?" He mimicked Francis. "Let's go Red."

Francis gritted his teeth and slid into the defensive stance Bob had taught him. He might have underestimated Onyx.

* * *

As Francis and Onyx fought, Virgil was having his own difficulties with Ebon. How does one go about pinning down a shadow? No matter what Virgil did, Ebon could evade it or throw it back at him. It was hard to keep track of the gang leader in the darting lights of the police cars. Ebon could melt into the shadows and pop out again when Virgil least expected it.

Virgil scrubbed one gloved hand across his cheek, frowning when it come away slick with blood. Ebon had gotten in a few good punches on his last ambush.

Virgil looked around, hovering above the ground on his disc. He scanned the street, searching for Ebon. The warning shouts from the police below made Virgil turn around. Ebon had created a portal with his legs and was using it to lift a parked car off the street. Ebon raised the car above the police and dropped it.

Virgil caught the car inches above their heads. His powers were strained under the weight of the car. Virgil pulled with all of his might and the car floated away from the relieved police. He dropped the car and fell to his knees on his disc. He was exhausted. That had used up a lot of his strength.

Ebon stretched his body and shot up to Virgil, knocking the teen off his disc. Virgil crashed to the street below. He struggled to catch his breath. Ebon loomed menacingly. Virgil threw one hand back at Ebon and shot some sparks at the shadow.

Ebon yelped as electricity coursed up his body. He retreated in pain.

Virgil got to his feet and his eyes widened. Ebon had gotten hold of the car again. This time, the effort to lift and throw the car looked as though it were draining Ebon too. The car flew directly at Virgil. He put his hands up and created an electric barrier between himself and the automobile.

The car collided with the barrier and hung suspended in mid-air. Virgil was pushed back slightly as the car fought against the barrier. Virgil took one step forward and shouted, summoning more power. The car fell back. Virgil gasped for breath. He and Ebon eyed each other from across the street.

* * *

Meanwhile, Violet was locked in combat with Puff. Puff had the upper-hand and had Violet cornered against a wall.

Puff smirked and blew a stream of acidic vapors in Violet's direction. Violet created a force field in front of herself and the vapors deflected off of it. The window behind Violet melted and bubbled into a puddle at her feet.

Violet went invisible to create some distance between herself and Puff. She needed time to think of a battle strategy. When these situations had been brought up in training, the adults had always stressed working as a team but the boys were up to their ears in baddies themselves. They didn't have the time to form a group tactic. Ebon and his cronies had been in control of the situation from the get-go. They had chosen which of the teenagers they had wanted to fight. That was unacceptable. It was time to regain control.

Puff's legs changed into a stream of smoke and she floated into the air, looking for Violet. She frowned in annoyance. "What? You got tired of playing? C'mon little girl. I was just warming up." She scanned the street. Violet remained invisible. "Fine, I'll smoke you out."

Puff sucked in a deep breath of air and when she exhaled it was a cloud of smoke. The smoke descended on the street. Violet coughed and gasped for air.

Puff descended into the smoke. "Now we're both invisible." She taunted.

Violet couldn't concentrate on staying invisible when she couldn't breathe. She appeared and stumbled through the smoke, searching for a way out. Puff heard her coughing and snuck up on the other girl.

When she found Violet, Puff tackled her from behind. The smoke began to dissipate now that Puff had found her prey.

Puff reared back with her fist and struck Violet across the face. Violet struggled to get out from underneath Puff. Smirking, Puff continued to smack Violet across the face.

Violet screamed in frustration and created a force-field between herself and Puff. Puff's latest punch bounced off the force-field and back at her. She hit herself in the jaw. "Ow." Puff whined, rubbing her chin.

Violet couldn't help it, she giggled. "Why're you hitting yourself?"

Puff stared down at Violet in shock. "Why…you little bi…"

* * *

Onyx lifted Francis by the leg and swung the teen around before letting go. Francis crashed through the last unbroken window on the block. He slid into a sales display of CDs, which collapsed around him. Francis got to his knees, sweat and blood dripping off his face. He looked through the splintered glass to where Onyx was laughing.

Francis opened his fist and a small flame appeared in his palm. His reserves of strength were dwindling rapidly and Onyx seemed tireless. Francis had to do something desperate to win this fight.

He'd never tried this move out in the Loft or even told anyone he thought he could do it. Bob would tell him it was stupid or too risky. At the moment, it was all Francis could think to do.

He got to his feet and climbed out the window. He powered up again, flames enveloping his body. He stared stonily at Onyx.

Onyx charged, fist cocked and ready to strike.

The punch flew and Francis ducked underneath it, placing both hands flat against Onyx's chest. Francis pulled up every scrap of energy he had left and thrust it into his hands.

Onyx didn't even have time to be surprised. The force of the blast launched the massive man across the street and into a wall. The wall crumbled around Onyx's weight. When the dust settled, Onyx lay unmoving in a pile debris. Francis smirked and muttered, "Booyah." Then he fainted.

* * *

Puff formed a ball of acid in her hands and threw it at Violet.

Violet dodged it and watched as the ball burnt through a stop sign behind her. Violet went invisible again.

Puff growled in frustration, quickly losing her temper. "I am so sick of that. You're such a coward. Why don't you come out and fight me, or are you scared?"

Behind Puff, Violet picked up a piece of broken pipe. She reappeared and tapped Puff on the shoulder. The other girl whirled around. Violet brought the pipe down onto Puff's head. With a sick crack, Puff collapsed in a heap. She wouldn't be getting up anytime soon. Violet twirled the pipe in her hand, grinning happily.

* * *

Virgil shot some sparks at Ebon. The rogue Super created a portal, which swallowed the sparks. He then opened a second portal behind Virgil and his own sparks leapt at him. Virgil dove out of the way.

Overhead, the news-copter shone a bright spotlight down on the fight. Ebon hissed in pain and grabbed a parking meter out of the ground, using the swirling winds of his portal to launch the meter at the news-copter. The meter burst the spotlight and shards of glass rained down onto the street. Ebon sighed in relief as the light vanished.

Virgil looked up at the helicopter and then back at Ebon. Of course! Light hurt Ebon. He was a living shadow. Light was his kryptonite. It was the only thing that would render him weak enough to subdue. Virgil frantically looked up and down the street for light sources.

Every streetlight on the block had been broken. Ebon must have done that earlier. The headlights from the police cars were too far away to have any effect.

Virgil looked at the streetlight Ebon was standing under and noticed the bulb wasn't broken. That meant Ebon hadn't broken that one, it had just not been working before. Virgil grinned, he had an idea.

* * *

Francis blinked and groaned as he sat up. He winced and rubbed the back of his neck. Every inch of him hurt. He looked around for Onyx. Still passed out. Good. One down. He turned just in time to see Violet crack Puff across the skull with a pipe. Francis winced again on Puff's behalf. The acidic Super went down like a sack of potatoes. Two down. That left Virgil and Ebon.

Francis stood up and spotted the duo fighting down the block. Virgil looked exhausted.

Francis ran up the street towards the two. Ebon had his back to Francis so he didn't see the pyro coming. Francis tackled Ebon at the knees and they both skid along the pavement.

Virgil grinned. Perfect timing!

Ebon got up and glared at Francis. "Who the hell d'you think you are?"

Virgil zapped his disc over and jumped on it, flying at a break neck speed over to Ebon. He collided with Ebon's back and the gang leader fell back directly under the streetlight.

"Grab him!" Virgil shouted to Francis. "Hold him!"

Francis scrambled to his feet and trapped Ebon in a full nelson. Ebon thrashed wildly in Francis' grip but he held on.

Virgil shot electricity into the unbroken bulb and it burst to life. Ebon shouted in fury when he realized what was happening.

Virgil increased the flow of electricity and the light became blinding. Francis closed his eyes and looked away, still holding onto Ebon.

Ebon screamed and struggled to get away.

Virgil increased the light even more and eventually Ebon couldn't take it anymore. He passed out in Francis' arms.

Virgil cut the flow and the bulb went dark.

Francis released Ebon and the leader lay crumpled, black skin hissing from exposure to the light as though he had been badly burnt.

Francis looked up at Virgil and grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. Three down.

* * *

The rogue Supers were being loaded into an NSA transport truck. Francis, Virgil, and Violet watched on in satisfaction. It was their first victory as real Superheroes. Medical personnel had already treated the three. There were no serious injuries, although they were all covered in enough cuts and bruises to last them a lifetime.

Reporters fought through the crowd to reach the teenagers.

One shoved a microphone in Virgil's face. "Static! What an incredible victory for you and your partners. Are you a new crime fighting faction?"

"Incredi-Girl! Are your parents incapacitated? Is that why they did not respond to the call?"

"Who are you?"

"Umm…" Francis stared dumbly at the reporter. "I'm Hotstreak."

The reporters all wrote the name down.

"And you're a pyro-tech?"

"Yeah."

"Where did you come from? How do you know Static and Incredi-Girl?"

"Uh…"

Violet grabbed Francis and they backed away from the throng of reporters. "I'm sorry, we can't answer any more questions at this time. We'll release a statement soon."

The reporters all looked very disappointed.

Virgil shot into the sky on his disc and saluted Violet and Francis, flying back towards the Sanctum.

Francis and Violet got on the motorcycle and drove away, still grinning excitedly over their first victory.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Oh man, this is a long chapter. Official new longest by the way. I had planned for it to be even longer but that's not happening. So, whoo hoo! They're heroes! Fighting! Introduction of some of our meta-human faves. And of course, meta-human translates to Super in this story. Sorry this took so long to get up. I wrote the first half in a couple of days and was feeling really good about it. Then I completely forgot about the story for a bout a month. So tonight, I sat down and pounded out the last half so I could get this up. Hope you guys like it.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	18. Chapter 18: Limelight

Author's Note: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Eighteen: Limelight**

Francis had been in a really good, deep sleep.

After riding back from the scene of the fight, losing some paparazzi on the way, Francis and the other two crime-fighting Supers tried to patch each other as best they could with the first aid kit in the bathroom. None of them had reached the emergency medical training portion of their training yet but they did the best they could, slapping band-aids down onto every cut and getting ice packs for swollen bruises.

Dash had bounced in and fluttered between all three, trying to help but really just getting in the way as he recounted the fights as he'd witnessed it from the broadcast on the news.

Somewhere around two in the morning, Virgil had staggered off to his bedroom holding a bag of frozen peas to his temple.

Violet collected her little brother, gave Francis a congratulatory chuck on the chin and went to bed as well.

Francis tried to tidy the bathroom a little, they'd really made a mess and Helen liked things organized, but his eyes kept drifting shut. So Francis turned off the light and walked back to his room, one hand on the wall to steady himself. He managed to wriggle out of his Supersuit and into a pair of sweatpants before he collapsed face first onto his bed. He crawled under the covers and was asleep almost instantly.

Big hands shook Francis out of his dreamless sleep what felt like only a few minutes later.

Francis opened his eyes and stared blearily up at the large figure being silhouetted from the hall light. He blinked in confusion and exhaustion.

"Up. Out of bed now." The silhouette ordered and Francis' eyes widened.

It was Bob.

"Come on." Bob grabbed Francis by the upper arm and helped Francis out of bed before leading the sleepy teenager into the living room.

Violet and Virgil were awake, just barely, and were sprawled onto the couch. Virgil ran a hand over his eyes when he saw Francis prodded in and seated in the armchair. "I think we're in trouble."

"No shit." Francis smothered a yawn.

"No swearing." Helen said. That response was really just a reflex by now. She and Lucius were standing in front of the TV, arms crossed over their chests and looking sternly at the teenagers. Bob came to stand next to them.

The adults stared stonily at the teens for a moment before Helen clasped her hands to her chest. "None of you are hurt are you?" She hurried to Violet's side and gently ran her hand over a nasty bruise on her daughter's cheek. "Oh sweetie, that looks like it hurts." Bob knelt beside his wife, checking Violet's arms and legs for other injuries.

Violet smiled and pulled her mom's hand down. "Kinda, but it's okay. I iced it."

"Are you sure?" Helen asked, her motherly instincts frazzled by the bruises and cut on her daughter.

Lucius squatted next to Virgil. "Honestly, are you okay?"

Virgil sat up a little straighter and nodded. "Yeah Pops. A little beat up. Nothing too bad. I'll be a hundred percent in a few days."

"And you?" Helen moved to Francis and turned his wrist from side to side, checking for a sprain. Onyx had twisted it during the fight and it was turning a nasty blue color. Francis hid a flinch when Helen twisted his wrist a little too far to the right but nodded. "I'm fine."

Once all the adults had assured themselves that the teens were all right, the disapproving looks crept back onto their faces.

"What are you guys doing here?" Francis was the first to ask. He looked at the clock over the TV. "At four in the morning?"

"We caught the red eye." Bob said.

"The evening news got our attention." Lucius added.

Francis, Virgil, and Violet exchanged glances. They hadn't counted on California news broadcasting the fight.

"Dicker in particular was very interested." Bob continued. "He's been calling non-stop."

"About…?" Virgil prodded.

"About you, about those rogue Supers, about property damage, about training regimen, about everything!" Helen said in exasperation.

"Next time you three decide to run off and disobey protocol, how about a phone call? So we can run interference?" Lucius asked sarcastically.

"Sorry." The teens muttered in unison.

Helen shook her head. "No, don't be." She sighed. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Francis looked up in surprise.

"She's right." Bob stepped in. "While technically you disobeyed us, you did the right thing. If you hadn't acted, I would have been disappointed. As it is, I can say I am extremely proud of all of you." He smiled.

The teenagers sat up a little and smiled back. "Thanks Dad." Violet said.

Lucius and Helen both smiled too. "That goes for us as well." Helen agreed.

"But don't think this means you guys are allowed on missions now." Lucius was quick to add. "You're still in training. But it's nice to know things are covered here if we have to leave the city."

"My first mission was a disaster. Half of the downtown area got flattened." Bob said, chuckling lightly at the memory. "I can't believe you guys were so successful. It's incredible."

"Well, we have some pretty good teachers." Violet said. Bob put his arm around his daughter and smiled.

Francis had been expecting some yelling and maybe some light punishment. He hadn't been expecting the worry and pride. Then again, he didn't have much experience with parents.

* * *

The adults arranged to have a press conference Monday while the kids would be at school. That gave them all of Sunday to contact Dicker so they could run possible explanations by him and alert the media to the time and location.

Monday morning at school, Virgil kept his cell phone on. It was set to alert him for news updates. He didn't want to miss the big conference. At lunch, his phone vibrated. Virgil pulled his phone out and read the update. He grinned at Violet and Francis. "This is it."

"Can we get a live stream?" Violet asked.

Virgil looked around at the crowded cafeteria and saw Richie and Frieda in the lunch line. They would be joining the table soon. Virgil stood up and grabbed his backpack. "Let's go somewhere more private."

The other two Supers followed Virgil out to the track. It was completely empty, everyone either in class or at lunch. They trekked up the bleachers and sat on the top row, huddling against Francis to keep warm.

Virgil searched for a live feed and found one, holding his phone out so the others could see. The conference was just getting under way. Bob, Helen, and Lucius were in uniform and sitting at a long table on a stage in front of hundreds of reporters. Bob motioned for quiet. The reporters settled down and microphones were thrust forward.

"Good morning everyone." Bob started. "I'm sure you all know why we called this conference so I'll get right down to business. As leader of Metroville's only Superhero team, I would like to welcome three new Superheroes to our roster. Static, Incredi-girl, and Hotstreak."

Pictures of the teens in uniform appeared on a screen behind Bob. It was one of Dicker's ideas. The three had spent all of Sunday in a studio having pictures taken of them so that the media would have instant access after the conference. This way, paparazzi wouldn't be trying to track down the teens so magazines could have their pictures on the cover.

"Most of you have probably seen the footage of them fighting the Super-breed." That was the name Ebon had insisted he and his team be called. "So you have an idea about their powers and what they can do." Bob continued. "The truth is they are still in training and so the full extent of their powers is still unknown. We will not comment on their powers any further. At this time, we will field questions but will not answer any questions about their identities or origins. My team and I expect you to respect our privacy."

Instantly the reporters erupted into sound, waving their hands in the air so that one of the Supers would pick them for a question.

Virgil tucked the phone back into his pocket. "So."

Francis leaned back against the metal fencing and closed his eyes. "Yeah."

"That was pretty cool." Violet said. "I mean, my dad said we were members of the team now. Our group training exercises are going to be a lot more fun now, and a lot more intense."

"Oh yeah." Virgil grinned. "And in a few months, we get to go on missions and everything. I can't wait."

Francis opened his eyes and looked at the two excited teens still talking animatedly about their futures. He scowled. That was their future. He was so far behind in his training it would take him months to catch up to where they were now, maybe years. They had been working in the Loft, honing their skills, and learning all about the high-tech the Supers had at their disposal for a while. Francis was new to this. He was still getting used to his powers and he'd never pushed himself to the limit. He didn't know what he could do. Not really. He had a long road ahead of him and Francis wasn't a patient person.

Violet turned to Francis and smiled. The corner of his mouth quirked up. That didn't mean he wasn't going to give it his all though. Francis was determined to prove his file wrong, to shove his hero status in the face of everybody at the NSA who had locked him up and tried to keep him from fulfilling his potential. He was going to laugh in Dicker's face and it was going to feel good.

* * *

Francis hadn't realized how weird it would be to see his face on every newspaper and magazine in the city. His partially obscured face, but still. He knew it was him. Francis had to physically stop himself from stopping and staring at every newsstand.

It had been almost a week since the teenage Supers came out to the press and the city was still going crazy over them. The publicity shots the teens had done beforehand were really coming in handy.

People seemed to be especially enthralled with Hotstreak. He had come out of nowhere; people literally knew nothing about him.

Everyone knew Incredi-girl was Mr. Incredible's daughter and they'd seen her fight before. Static had done some moonlighting before his dad figured out he was sneaking out at night so they had seen him before too.

Francis paused in front of one particular magazine. His picture was on the cover. He was standing in uniform with his arms crossed over his chest, one eyebrow raised and mouth quirked into a smirk. The cover was red and next to his picture was a giant black question mark.

"Crazy isn't it?" Frieda walked up behind Francis and put her arm through his. "I didn't know there were teenage Supers. I thought they were all kind of old."

Francis snorted and turned it into a cough when Frieda looked at him. "I dunno, they have kids don't they? Must be genetic."

"I guess you're right." Frieda said. They turned and continued walking down the sidewalk. School had let out for the day and Violet was at rehearsal so they were wasting time before Francis to go pick her up.

Frieda walked a little ahead of Francis, looking into store windows and pulling him along when she found something especially interesting. It was a warm day and the snow on the ground was swiftly turning to slush. Frieda was wearing a puffy vest over a sweater and a scarf that she kept fiddling with whenever she stopped walking.

Francis was walking slowly on purpose, trying to annoy Frieda. He had his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and was trudging through the slush, making a mess of his sneakers.

Eventually Frieda stopped and turned around, her hands on her hips. "You are sooo slow. Come on."

Francis snickered. "I'm not skipping up and down the sidewalk with you."

"I am not skipping."

"You kinda are."

"Not."

"Are."

"Not."

"Look at your tracks." Francis pointed out. The steps Frieda left in the snow were erratic and danced all across the sidewalk.

Frieda pulled at her scarf and flushed. "There's nothing wrong with skipping."

"I didn't say there was. I'm just saying I'm not." Francis said smartly and walked up beside Frieda.

"You're trying to bug me, you jerk." Frieda laughed and punched his arm playfully.

Francis looked out into the street, fighting the smile that was threatening to creep onto his face. "Maybe."

Frieda smiled at him and linked arms again, walking at a slower pace.

Francis rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked down at Frieda. She fit so snuggly into his side, he liked having her there. He wanted to wrap his arm around her shoulders and hold her close, not just link arms. "Hey Frieda?"

"Yeah?" She rested her head against his arm.

"Are you doing anything on Friday?" Francis asked.

Frieda raised her head and looked up at Francis, her brow crinkling slightly. "What are you asking?"

"Do you want to go on a date with me on Friday?" Francis asked. He hated that he could feel the blush creep onto his face.

"Francis, I don't know…"

Francis' face fell. Frieda looked apologetic. "I just really like being friends with you. We're in a good place. I don't want to ruin this."

Francis nodded roughly.

"You understand, right?"

"Yeah, I'm not stupid."

Frieda frowned. "I didn't say you were. Don't be like that."

"You're right." Francis looked off to the side. "Forget I asked."

Frieda laid her head to rest on his bicep again and then stopped in place, staring at a window display. "Those boots are so cute! Let's go in." Frieda pulled at Francis' arm. He held his ground and groaned at her. "Just for a few minutes?" Frieda asked sweetly.

Francis motioned at his watch. "I'm timing you."

* * *

Virgil and Richie were walking out of the comic store, talking animatedly about the new issue they had just picked up when Virgil collided with a girl rushing past.

The girl lost her balance and teetered backwards, books and papers flying from her arms. Virgil instinctively reached out and grabbed her wrist to keep her from falling.

"Smooth bro." Richie teased and then bent over to help the girl pick up her things.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you." Virgil rushed to apologize and chase after some papers before they got ruined in the slush.

"No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking. I'm sort of in a hurry and I was trying to read this excerpt," The girl hugged her books to her chest. She had light brown skin and short hair that framed her face prettily. She was wearing a red sweater and a long purple skirt.

"An excerpt on measuring electro-magnetic energy sources?" Virgil was looking at a paper. "No way, I'm writing a paper on that for my chem class."

"You are?" The girl asked, taking a bundle of papers back from Richie. "At Dakota High?"

"Yeah. It's kind of my specialty." Virgil smiled and handed the paper over. He frowned suddenly. "Wait, how did you know I go to Dakota?"

The girl shrugged and smiled lightly. "It's where everyone goes around here."

"Except you." Richie said. "I don't recognize you."

"Oh, I go to the Vanmoor Institute. It's just outside the city. I'm actually late for a meeting with my student advisor right now about a project, that's why I'm in such a hurry."

"Oh wow, the Vanmoor Institute, very selective." Richie grinned at the girl.

The girl shrugged. "It's tough, but worth it."

"Well, we don't want to make you any later, uh…" Virgil faltered; he didn't know the girl's name.

"Daisy." The girl held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Virgil." Virgil introduced himself and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you too."

"I'm Richie." Richie announced from behind Daisy.

She laughed and shook his hand as well. "Maybe I'll bump into you guys again?"

"I hope so." Virgil said.

Daisy laughed again and hurried away, waving over her shoulder as she turned the corner.

Virgil stared after her in a daze. Richie looked from Virgil to the corner where Daisy had disappeared around and the back at Virgil. He nudged the other boy with his elbow, smirking tauntingly. "Bro, you are so in love with her."

"What? I am not!" Virgil flushed a deep red and turned, stalking up the sidewalk.

Richie chuckled and jogged to catch up. "She's your nerdy soul mate. And you'll never see her again."

"She is not and why should I care. She's just some girl." Virgil shot back unconvincingly.

"Your flaming red face doth protest." Richie teased.

Virgil's hand shot up to cover his cheeks. "Shut up."

* * *

Francis walked into school and immediately the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. He paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. No one. A couple of students brushed by him before the late bell could ring. The hallways were clogged with teenagers getting things out of their lockers, chatting in groups, and heading to their first class of the day. Francis narrowed his eyes and swept his gaze over the hallway again, something was wrong.

One clump of students dispersed and Francis locked eyes with Wade. The larger teen was standing down the hall, leaning casually against the lockers, his big arms crossed over his chest. He was looking at Francis, his face clean of emotion.

Francis kept his own face neutral but his hand went up to grab the strap of his backpack and he clenched the strap so hard his knuckles turned white. The two stared evenly at one another for what seemed like a long time but what must have been only a few minutes.

The late bell rang, shocking Francis back to reality. He released the strap and smirked at Wade before turning down another hallway and heading to class. Once he was out of sight Francis furrowed his brow. He'd have to tread lightly now. No fighting in school. He couldn't afford any more slip-ups with the principal or the police.

* * *

Richie found Francis between classes. "Did you see…?"

"Wade, yeah." Francis interrupted the blond boy. He reached into his locker for a book and slammed it shut.

Richie scanned Francis' face. "Okay. What are you going to do?"

Francis shrugged and re-shouldered his backpack. "Nothing."

"Nothing." Richie repeated, one eyebrow rising incredulously. "You're not going to do anything or say anything? What are you going to do if Wade makes a move?"

"He's not." Francis said confidently. "Look over there." The pyro nodded over Richie's shoulder.

Richie turned to look and noticed Principal Duncan was watching them. He acknowledged Richie and Francis' looks with a nod and continued surveying the hall.

"Now look over there." Francis turned in the opposite direction. Wade rounded the corner, looking intent on finding Francis at his locker. Wade faltered when he noticed Duncan watching his movements. A teacher walked around the same corner Wade had just come from and pointedly looked at the banger before walking to the bulletin board on the far wall and posting a notice.

Richie looked at Francis for an explanation. The red head grinned. "They've been doing that all day. They're watching us. All the teachers, the principals, I even saw the janitor tailing Wade a while ago. They don't want another fight on school grounds so they're making sure they're always around. Wade won't start a fight in front of a teacher."

"Wow." Richie was impressed. "I had no idea." He looked at the teacher, who was now pretending to read a flyer. Wade seemed torn about what to do next and he backtracked, disappearing around the corner.

Francis slung an arm around Richie's shoulder and the two walked past Duncan, headed to class. "You know, maybe authority figures aren't so bad."

"I heard that Stone." Duncan smiled.

Francis raised his hand over his shoulder in acknowledgement and he and Richie laughed.

* * *

"It's kinda freaky." Virgil said, sliding into the seat beside Francis at lunchtime.

"Hmm?" Francis asked around a mouthful of chips.

Virgil pointed at the lunch ladies, who were not hiding their staring at Wade, seated on the other side of the cafeteria. "Everybody's on Wade's case."

"Good." Frieda said. She was sitting across from the boys eating a salad. "Maybe school can continue to be peaceful. These last few weeks have been great."

Francis looked over at Wade and noticed the clenched fists and furrowed brow, the terse way he spoke with the other members of his crew. Francis frowned. "I think if Wade's gonna snap, and he is, it's gonna be outside of school. He's not stupid."

"Then you can avoid him." Virgil reasoned. "Once Violet's done with the play, you can just go straight home after school."

"I'm not going to hide from him." Francis said.

"You'd rather get arrested again?" Frieda asked.

Francis glared across the table. "Let's just drop it."

"Fine." Frieda shrugged and turned her attention back to her lunch.

"Fine." Francis scowled.

Virgil looked between the two and reached out into the air, wiggling his fingers. "Wow, I can actually feel the awkward." Neither responded. "What happened between you two?"

"Nothing." They said in unison.

"Riiiight." Virgil rolled his eyes. "I buy that."

Francis dropped his pop can onto to the table with a loud thunk. "I asked Frieda out and she said no, again."

"Wait." Virgil made a 'T' motion with his hands. "Flag on the play. Are you guys not going out?"

"No. Why would you think that?" Frieda asked.

Virgil shrugged. "You guys spend every afternoon together. You eat lunch together. You get along really well and are always touching each other. Plus there was that whole kiss thing over break."

Frieda's face went scarlet at the mention of the kiss. "We're not going out. And we're not always touching each other."

"You kind of are." Virgil argued. "But it's not my place. Whatever's going on with you two is between you two."

"_I_ don't even know what's going on with us." Francis muttered.

Frieda shot him a look. Francis raised his eyebrow. "It's true. One second we're kissing and it seems like you're liking it and then the next you just want to be friends. I don't get it. Why can't you even give me a chance?"

"It's not that." Frieda tried to explain. "I said before…"

"Yeah, I remember." Francis frowned. "Sounded like a loud of bull shit to me."

Virgil picked up his tray. "I'm going to…go."

"I'm just asking for one date, if it sucks, we'll be friends. If not, we'll see. What's the harm in that?" Francis persisted.

Virgil looked torn. He knew he should leave and give the two teens a chance to talk about this in private, but he also really wanted to hear how this ended.

Frieda picked at her salad.

"C'mon Frieda. One date." Francis pleaded.

Frieda finally looked up and sighed. "I guess one date couldn't hurt."

Francis grinned broadly. "Awesome."

"I'm going to sit back down." Virgil reclaimed his seat.

"So Friday night?" Francis asked.

Frieda nodded. "Okay. Friday night it is."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Okay, so I actually have some excuses about why this is so late. Exams, sickness, and moving have consumed my life. So I don't feel all that guilty about this update being so late. But for real, in the future I will try to keep updates to a month or under. Updates that take longer than a month make me feel bad about myself.

About the chapter, I was going to include the date in this chapter, but it got long and I got lazy. Next chapter, expect some epic romance. And some other stuff will probably happen too. The rest of this chapter is mostly filler, which is why it was hard to write. That contributed to the lateness.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	19. Chapter 19: Winter Wonderland

Disclaimer: I do not own The Incredibles or Static Shock

**Chapter Nineteen: Winter Wonderland**

"So you guys are going out?" Violet asked.

Francis nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. "Yeah."

Violet smiled at him. They were walking side by side down a hallway in the Sanctum's underground HQ. Both had just spent an hour working in the weight room and were heading to the gym to run laps. "That's great. Do you have any idea where you're going to take her?" Violet tucked a hair that had slipped loose from her ponytail behind her ear. "You're going to have to make a pretty strong impression if you want Frieda to be your girlfriend."

Francis stared down at the tiled floor. "I've got an idea, yeah. She'll probably like it."

"So what is it?" Violet asked.

Francis smirked softly and shook his head.

"Why not?"

"It's a surprise." Francis answered teasingly.

Violet pouted. "That's no fun."

"Learn to live with disappointment." Francis joked. They reached the gym and Francis pulled the door open.

Bob, Lucius, Virgil, and Dash were already inside. Dash was zipping around the track, his body a blur of red and black. The others were standing under one of the basketball hoops, talking. Lucius had a basketball tucked under one arm.

They looked up when Violet and Francis walked in and Bob smiled widely. "Perfect timing. Francis is on my team."

"Huh?" Francis raised an eyebrow.

"We were trying to figure out teams for a game." Lucius explained, holding the basketball aloft. "Two v two, you in?"

"Against you two?" Francis nodded at Lucius and Virgil. "Sure."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Virgil asked.

"It means you suck at basketball and I love cleaning the floor with you." Francis grinned.

Bob snickered. Lucius put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Yeah, but you've got the human wrecking ball to play with. Graceful, he is not."

"I am extremely graceful." Bob looked affronted.

"Enough talking, more playing." Francis snagged the ball out of Lucius' hands and sprinted up court, dribbling the ball expertly and throwing a lay up into the net with ease.

He turned and grinned at the others. "One to none."

"No fair!" Virgil retrieved the ball.

Francis shrugged. "Who said I play fair?"

* * *

Francis was actually putting a lot of effort into this date. He knew this was his one chance. If he couldn't impress Frieda tonight, then that was it. He would be stuck in the friend-zone. And he'd have to pretend like he didn't mind when he would really be kicking himself for blowing his one opportunity.

He pulled a dark blue button-up out of his closet that wasn't too badly wrinkled and laid it out on his bed. Then he found a pair of jeans that didn't have holes in the knees. So far so good. Francis got dressed and walked to the bathroom. He shaved and ran his hands through his hair, making it spikier than usual. He might have even dabbed a little of Bob's cologne onto the back of his neck. It couldn't hurt.

Francis had begged and pleaded with Bob to let him borrow one of the family cars for tonight. He didn't think Frieda would appreciate having to ride on a motorcycle in winter.

He spared a glance at the clock over the microwave in the kitchen and sped to his room. He'd have to leave in the next few minutes if he wanted to pick Frieda up and still be on time.

He put his shoes on and threw on his warmest coat, stuffing a pair of gloves into the pocket.

Francis had hoped no one would be around when he left. Everyone had found out about the date one way or another and had been teasing him relentlessly all week.

He ran into Virgil first. Virgil grinned at Francis as he walked in the living room. "Good luck."

"Thanks." Francis hurried past.

Dash zoomed out of the kitchen, balancing a bowl of popcorn in one hand and an open can of pop in the other. He wiggled his little blond eyebrows at Francis suggestively. "Have fun."

Francis aimed a kick at the little speedster but Dash just laughed and dodged before running into another room. Francis shook his head and chuckled quietly.

Francis ducked away from Helen who wanted to fix his hair and from Bob who tried to give him a talk about respect and boundaries and then thankfully made it to the sanctuary of the garage. Francis slammed the door shut and thought about melting the lock so no one could follow him in. There was something wrong with the people in that house.

* * *

Frieda opened the door and smiled at Francis standing on the stoop. He returned the smile. "Hi." Francis said softly.

"Hi." Frieda fiddled with her scarf. Francis had told her to dress warm. It's a good thing he did. The sun had set and it was cold out. Soft flakes began to fall from the clear night sky.

"Um, should we…or…?" Francis hesitated. He wasn't sure about date etiquette.

Frieda laughed. "We can just go. But we have to be back by eleven, my parents get nervous about first dates."

"Okay, then we better get going." Francis said. He offered his hand to Frieda and they walked down the steps to the car.

The conversation was pretty stilted at first. Weeks of being candid and comfortable in each other's presence were dashed to pieces by the awkward first date atmosphere. Francis drummed his hands on the steering wheel, just to fill the silence with some sound. Frieda smiled at him and put her hand on his arm. Francis relaxed slightly.

"So where are we going?" Frieda looked out the window. They were driving towards the suburbs that circled Dakota. Apartment buildings and skyscrapers rapidly turned into brick houses and strip malls.

"You'll see." Francis teased. The snow began to fall in heavier, fluffier flakes.

Frieda squealed in delight when Francis pulled into the Dakota Zoo's parking lot. "What are we doing here? It's not open at night."

Francis just smirked and walked Frieda to the entrance. There was a line of people streaming through the gates, all bundled up in winter clothing. Francis and Frieda joined the end of the line.

"During the winter, the zoo does a Christmas light show…thing. It's open at night and people can walk around. Some of the animal exhibits are open and there are light displays." Francis explained, as they got closer to the front of the line.

Francis paid for their tickets and they walked through the gate. The view was breathtaking.

There were lights draped over every tree. Some lights had been shaped to form the outlines of animals. A glittering brown monkey climbed shining green trees, a twinkling yellow banana in his little hand. A pink hippo threw sparkling blue water over himself. Giant snowflakes adorned every lamppost.

Meanwhile, the snow continued to fall in fat flakes, twinkling as they passed through the lights and settled on the ground.

Frieda's eyes shined as she took it all in.

"Do you like it?" Francis asked.

Frieda threw her arms around the boy. "I love it! It's so beautiful!"

Francis let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding in. "Good."

"Let's walk around." Frieda intertwined their arms and they set off.

Francis didn't mind letting Frieda pull him along. They walked slowly, arm in arm with Frieda resting her head on Francis' shoulder, occasionally letting out a small delighted gasp as she pointed something out to him.

Besides the dazzling light displays, some animal exhibits were open as well. The polar bears and penguins were the most popular and crowds had gathered around those exhibits. Francis made Frieda squeal by dramatically leaning backwards over the bear enclosure. She grabbed his coat, laughing as she pulled him upright.

When snuggling into Francis' side as they walked was not enough to keep the shivers away, they stopped and got hot chocolates from a stand. Francis felt a little guilty because he could easily keep Frieda warm, but that would bring on complicated questions Francis didn't know he could answer. He felt better when Frieda got whipped cream on the tip of her nose and she let him wipe it off. Francis popped his thumb into his mouth to lick the sugar and the way Frieda looked at him, with her cheeks red from the cold and snowflakes in her hair, Francis didn't know if he had ever seen anything prettier in his entire life.

Frieda gripped the front of Francis' coat and buried her head in his chest before reaching up and brushing the snow off his shoulders. She grinned up at him and then pulled on his hand, leading him down the path to the next exhibit.

Francis didn't want to be cocky, but he might have just planned and executed the best first date in the history of first dates.

On the drive home, Frieda and Francis talked non-stop and couldn't seem to keep their hands to themselves. Francis resisted the urge to pull over to side of the road to steam up the windows, which would be pretty easy for him.

Francis got Frieda home ten minutes before her curfew. Her parents were standing by the bay window, looking out for their daughter. They abruptly closed the curtains when the teens spotted them.

"Sorry, about them." Frieda sighed, blushing red. "They can get pretty protective. I'm kind of surprised they're not coming out here to interrogate you."

"I'm pretty okay with them not doing that." Francis admitted.

Frieda giggled. "I think most boys would agree with that sentiment."

They were quiet for a second. "I really had a lot of fun tonight." Frieda said.

"Good, me too." Francis smiled. "So it was a good date?"

Frieda nodded. "The best date I've ever been on. And I'm not just saying that."

"So, we can go out again?" Francis offered tentatively.

"Definitely." Frieda reached out and thumbed Francis' collar, then stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Most definitely."

Francis grinned and swooped down, kissing Frieda full on the lips like he'd wanted to all night. His hands were on her waist and she was holding onto his coat and she tasted as sweet as that whipped cream had. The porch light flickered on and off and Frieda stepped back, rolling her eyes. "My dad." She kicked the front door. The light flickered again.

Frieda bit her lip. "I'd better go in."

Francis nodded. "Ok."

"You'll call me?"

Francis nodded again. "Yeah."

"Ok." Frieda smiled at Francis and opened the door. "Good night."

"Good night." Francis put his hands in his pockets and grinned at her. The door shut softly behind Frieda.

Francis leapt off the stoop and pumped his fist in the air.

* * *

An explosion rocked the Loft. Black smoke clogged the vision of Lucius and Bob, who were monitoring from the control room. Bob sighed and hit the kill switch, the simulation coming to an abrupt end.

Virgil coughed violently; he held one hand over his mouth and the other waving in front of his face, trying to clear the air. He slowly lowered his disc back to the ground.

Francis rubbed the back of his head, face twisted into a grimace. The front of his uniform was singed and smoking. He picked himself up as Virgil landed beside him.

Violet released the force field that surrounded her body and put her hands on her hips, glaring at Francis. "What was that?"

"What?" Francis brushed the glowing embers off the flame retardant fabric of his uniform.

"That was like amateur hour." Violet complained, sweeping her hand to indicate the remains of a detonated bomb a few feet away from Francis, the obvious source of the explosion. "You are fire guy. You have one job; don't let the bomb go off. What do you do? You let the bomb go off. If this were a real mission civilians could have been killed."

"I tried." Francis growled through gritted teeth. "I almost got there…"

"Almost isn't good enough Francis." Bob's voice came on over the speakers. "Forget what would happen in the real world, you weren't protecting your teammates. If Violet hadn't gotten her shield up she would have been hurt. We will not run these simulations if you cannot handle them. We don't want anybody getting hurt."

Francis let out a frustrated breath.

"Relax man." Virgil said. "They're trying to help."

"And I'm trying to do what they're saying." Francis retorted.

"Then maybe we should go back to the easier simulations." Lucius suggested.

"No!" Violet stamped her foot. "Me and Virgil have been working for months to get to this level."

Francis leveled a glare at Violet.

"Violet, patience is a virtue." Bob scolded gently. "Francis is new to this. Let's give him a chance."

Violet nodded after a moment. "You're right." She turned to Francis. "Sorry. I got frustrated."

Francis nodded in acknowledgement.

"Let's try this again from the top." Lucius said. "To your starting positions."

* * *

Francis ran a towel through his hair agitatedly, still fuming from the training session. He threw the towel across the room and flopped back onto his bed. He was exhausted. His schoolwork on top of his Superhero bookwork on top of intense weekly training sessions was drowning him. He was always sore, especially since Violet and Virgil had graduated to the next level of training, for which they were fully prepared, and Francis had tagged along. He thought he could handle it. He might have been wrong.

He didn't have Violet or Virgil's knowledge of evasive maneuvers or team exercises, although he had been trying to learn. There was a playbook the Sanctum Supers utilized, the same kind used in football, which Francis had been reading through every night, trying to catch up to the other teens. He was still only halfway through. Violet and Virgil had had it memorized for weeks.

The training sessions were tough and Francis usually got the hang of it by the end, but it was a trial getting there. Francis felt a tightness in his chest and he rubbed his palm distractedly over where the pain was. He'd never realized how hard it was being a Superhero.

* * *

"Mom."

No response.

"Mooooom."

Silence.

Dash rolled his eyes. "Mom, you're doing it again."

"Doing what?" Helen asked distractedly, trying to feed Jack-Jack some strained peas. Jack-Jack was clapping his hands in the gooey green paste covering the tray in front of him and ducking his head whenever the spoon got too close to his mouth.

"The faces. You're doing the weird faces again." Dash explained. He tapped his fingers against the table.

"I do not do weird faces." Helen argued, not taking her eyes off her infant son. Jack-Jack's attention wandered and she managed to get a spoonful of food past his lips. Jack-Jack scowled at her, furrowing his little brow in disapproval but he swallowed anyway. Helen grinned in delight and contorted her face into a series of smiles and dopey looks all while cooing happily at Jack-Jack.

"Yeah, you do." Dash grumbled. "It's weird."

"Hiya honey." Bob walked into the kitchen and bent over to kiss his wife on the cheek.

"Hi. How's training going?" Helen scooped a fresh spoonful of peas out of the jar.

Bob rummaged in the fridge for something sweet and eventually found a package of Oreos in the cupboard. "It's alright. Francis is having some difficulty adjusting to the group dynamic."

"When do I get to train?" Dash asked.

"He'll get the hang of it." Helen said. "Francis is a fast learner."

Bob looked over his shoulder at his wife to reply. "Hon, you're doing the faces."

'Told ya." Dash said triumphantly.

Bob poured himself a glass of milk and sat down beside Dash, tossing a cookie onto his son's plate. Dash grinned and reached for it. Bob shook his head. "Finish your sandwich first."

"Awww." Dash whined.

Jack-Jack knocked the spoon from Helen's hand. It flew across the table. Helen flung her arm forward and caught it before the utensil went clattering to the floor. Helen sighed and blew a strand of hair out of her face. She reached across the kitchen for a dishrag to wipe up the spilled food. "Honestly, Jack-Jack. You don't like the peaches, the peas, the carrots, or the applesauce. I'm running out of things to feed you. You have to eat something."

Jack-Jack just looked up at his mother happily, banging his hands against the tray.

Bob chuckled. "Just give him some ice cream or something. I'm sure he'd eat that."

"Yeah, because that sounds healthy." Helen rolled her eyes.

"I wish I could have ice cream for lunch." Dash grumbled, picking at his sandwich.

"Don't we all." Bob ruffled Dash's hair fondly. "C'mon finish up and maybe you and me can go do some basic exercises down in the Loft."

"Awesome!" Dash took an enormous bite out of his sandwich and chased it with a mouthful of water.

"Dash, chew." Helen scolded. "You're going to choke."

Dash finished his lunch in three huge bites and dropped his plate in the sink. He jumped up and down in front of his father, eager to get to training. "C'mon Dad. Let's go."

"One sec." Bob ate one last Oreo and drained his glass of milk. He cleaned up and turned to Dash. "So what do you want to work on today?"

"Let's do the obstacle course."

"You always do the obstacle course."

"I'm good at it."

"Yeah, but you've mastered it. It's not a challenge. Maybe we should start you on a Rescue Mission."

"By myself?"

"Can you handle it?"

"Duh."

"Day."

"Good, so we can…" Bob trailed off. He looked at Helen. They both stared at each other with shocked expressions before turning to Jack-Jack. The baby smiled up at them. "Day." He clapped his hands together. "Day day day."

Helen clapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god. His first word."

Bob and Dash smiled. "He's saying my name!" They exclaimed simultaneously. They looked at each other.

"I think it's pretty clear he's trying to say Da-Da." Bob said. He leaned over and cooed at Jack-Jack. "Aren't you? Yes, you are saying my name. Yes you are."

"No way." Dash jumped up and ran over to Jack-Jack. "He was saying Dash."

"He said Da-Da." Bob repeated adamantly.

"Dash." Dash argued.

Helen rolled her eyes.

* * *

Virgil fingered the thick envelope and contemplated what was inside.

Emblazoned across the front in stylish black calligraphy was the address of the Vanmoor Institute. Inside was an invitation to enroll.

Virgil's hands shook in excitement. The Vanmoor Institute was one of the most prestigious and selective schools on the East Coast. Nearly all the students went on to Ivy League schools. There were only about 300 students enrolled and they came from all over the country. The Institute specialized in science and technology, Virgil's favorite subjects.

It was almost too outlandish to believe. The Vanmoor Institute wanted Virgil. He'd always gotten straight A's and was well liked by teachers but Virgil hadn't thought anything of it. He thought he was pretty average.

The front door opened and closed. Lucius was home from work.

Virgil got up and walked into Lucius' suite. His father was in the bedroom, changing out of his work clothes. "Pops?" Virgil called, settling onto the couch.

"Yeah Virg?" Lucius called back, poking his head out of the bedroom to look at his son.

"Can I talk to you about something?" Virgil asked.

Lucius nodded. "Give me a sec."

A few minutes later Lucius emerged in casual clothes with a smile on his face. He plopped down onto the couch next to Virgil and threw his arm over his son's shoulders. "So what's up?"

"This came in the mail today." Virgil said and handed the letter to his father.

Lucius stared at the seal in confusion for a moment and then pulled the invitation out of the envelope. He read it silently and then briefly flipped through a brochure that had come with the invitation. He looked at Virgil. "Wow. This school looks amazing."

"It is." Virgil agreed. "I did some research this afternoon and it's the best place to study science."

"Which you want to do." Lucius finished the sentiment.

"It's in Dakota so I wouldn't have to change my commute or anything." Virgil said. "And I could still hang out with Richie after school or on weekends or something."

"It sounds like you want to go." Lucius said.

Virgil furrowed his brow before nodding. "I think I do. It would be dumb to pass up something like this up."

"Then I'm a hundred percent behind you son." Lucius squeezed Virgil's shoulder. "And even if it is the best school in the whole country, if it's not the right place for you we can always figure something else out. I want you to get a good education _and_ be happy. You don't think transferring to a second school in half a year is a bit much?"

"I don't know." Virgil said truthfully. "I really do like Dakota High. Things are good there. But I need to check this out. I'd always think about it if I didn't."

Lucius nodded. "Ok." He looked at the invitation again. "Well, it says here we can tour the school before we finalize anything. How about I take a day off from work next week and we go check this place out."

Virgil grinned. "Sounds good."

* * *

To sum it up, the Vanmoor Institute was just about the coolest place on the planet.

Virgil was in complete awe. He and his dad had taken the tour, been shown the classrooms and facilities, and paged through the class catalog. Everything seemed perfect. It was Virgil's dream school.

There were normal classes for most of the day, including English and history along with other core curriculum classes. Most of the afternoon, however, was filled with specialized science courses and project classes.

"So what do you think Pops?" Virgil asked as he and Lucius sat down on one of the outdoor benches in the courtyard.

"I think it's a very impressive school." Lucius looked around. "I think you'd like it here."

Virgil nodded. "Me too."

"So is that a yes?" Lucius asked.

Virgil nodded again. "Yeah. Let's do it. I want to enroll."

Lucius stood up and stretched his back. 'Then I'm going to attempt to re-find the front office and maybe get a head start on the paper work."

"I think I'll walk around a little. Meet you out front in an hour?" Virgil asked.

"Deal." Lucius walked off.

Virgil watched his dad turn a corner and then he stood up, looking around the courtyard. He wanted to explore the school some more and find some students to talk to.

* * *

To Virgil's disappointment, not many of the students seemed interested in talking with a strange teenager they didn't know. They all seemed very wrapped up in their own work. Kids were walking the halls with telescopes in cases, huge graphs and poster boards, and they were punching numbers into calculators with the same fervor and ferocity that teenagers at Dakota High played video games.

"Hey, excuse me." Virgil tried to start up a conversation with two older boys slouching against a wall. One had long blond hair pulled into a ponytail and the other had on glasses and was wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

"Can we help you?" The one with glasses asked snidely. He crossed his arms over his chest and exchanged smirks with his friend, as if sharing a private joke.

"My name's Virgil and I'm transferring here next week. I was wondering if you had any tips for the new guy? I don't really know what to expect." Virgil explained, putting on his friendly face.

"I don't know Mr. Trapper. Do you have any tips?"

The blond shook his head, a mean grin pulling at his lips. "Not that I can think of Mr. Specs. You?"

"Yeah, here's one." Specs stood upright. "Always watch where you're going in the hallways, they can get pretty crowded.

"Um, alright. But I…" Virgil swallowed the rest of the sentence as Specs pushed him backwards into the stream of students. Virgil collided with someone and they both fell. Papers flew into the air. Nobody stopped to help or even cast a sidelong glance at the kids on the floor.

Virgil rubbed the back of his head as he sat up. "Those jerks." He growled, glaring at the spot where Specs and Trapper had been. They had disappeared into the crowd of students.

"We really have to stop meeting like this."

Virgil turned around and couldn't help but gape. Daisy was on her knees, trying to gather her papers before people stepped on them.

"Daisy?" Virgil managed to choke out.

"Hi Virgil." Daisy smiled.

Virgil shook off his shock and scrambled to retrieve the rest of Daisy's things before helping her up. "I'm so sorry. This time it wasn't my fault. I was pushed by this jerk…"

Daisy held up her hand to stop him. "Let me guess, ponytail and glasses?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Virgil asked.

Daisy rolled her eyes. "Specs and Trapper are jerks. Geniuses, but jerks. Just ignore them." Her eyes widened as she suddenly thought of something. "But what are you doing here? I thought you went to Dakota High?"

"I do…or I did. I just transferred." Virgil said, feeling proud of himself.

A smile lit up Daisy's face. "That's fantastic! Maybe we'll have some classes together."

"I hope so." Virgil said.

The bell rang. Daisy looked down the hallway. "I've got to go." She looked back at Virgil. "I'll see you on Monday?"

"You bet." Virgil grinned.

"See you around then." Daisy waved as she walked away.

Virgil looked up to the ceiling and fervently wished that he be in every single one of Daisy's classes.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Woohoo! Update! So this chapter's basically a whole bunch of fluff filler. Fluff that sets up some later stuff but still, I got a toothache writing this chapter it was so sweet.

So, I don't know if the zoos in your area do Christmas lights but mine does and it actually is magical. Seriously. Any guys out there, take note. It would make the best date. Ever.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	20. Chapter 20: Weak in the Knees

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twenty: Weak in the Knees**

Francis woke up on Thursday morning to a splitting headache. He blinked his eyes several times, trying to adjust to the dim lighting in his room. He raised his hand to his temple and tried to rub the pain away. It stubbornly persisted. Francis sat up, throwing the sheet off his body, and his vision dimmed for a second. He shook his head and the blackness at the periphery of his vision receded.

Francis swung his legs over the bed and hunched over, holding his head in his hands. Willing his headache to go away. He had an algebra test today; a headache would only make it more difficult than usual to concentrate.

After a few moments of sitting motionless in the dark, the pain ebbed. Francis sighed in relief and started getting ready for school.

When he heard Violet leave the bathroom Francis snuck down the hall and jumped into the vacant bathroom. He locked the door behind him. Francis knew Helen kept some pain relievers in the medicine cabinet beside the mirror. He fumbled around with several bottles of cough syrup and little orange bottles with confusing prescriptions printed on the side before he found a bottle of pain relievers. Francis took a few seconds to read the back before untwisting the cap and tapping two pills into the palm of his hand, as per the instructions. He tossed back the pills dry and moved to put the bottle back, and then though better of it and tucked the bottle away in his pants' deep cargo pocket. The headache might come back.

* * *

Violet took a deep breath and fiddled with the microphone attached to her ear. She listened anxiously for her cue and when Tyler, who was playing Polonius, bid farewell to Reynaldo, Violet glided onto the stage.

The spotlight hit her and Violet felt all of her nervousness melt away. She stepped daintily, despite the cumbersome dress she was wearing and Tyler turned to her as she spoke her line.

"My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; no hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ankle; pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; and with a look so piteous in purport as if he had been loosed out of hell to speak of horrors, he comes before me."

Tyler said his line. "Mad for thy love?"

Violet continued, letting a tremble of uncertainty and fear enter her voice. "My lord, I do not know; but truly, I do fear it."

They were running a full dress rehearsal. The show was to open to the public next week. All of the characters were in full costume and makeup. The light and sound crews were hitting all of their marks. Everything was going so well. They were ready to have an audience.

Well…they sort of had an audience already. Francis sat in the last row of the auditorium. His feet propped up on the back of the seat in front of him. His arms were folded over his chest as he watched the play. He'd seen enough rehearsals at this point that he had almost the entire play memorized and still only half of an idea of what was actually happening on that stage. Shakespeare was confusing.

He did know one thing, Violet was good. Like, actually really good. Francis didn't claim to be an expert on acting or theater but Violet was capable of making him forget it was Violet Parr he was watching. She became someone else. For someone who was invisible most of the time, she sure did shine in the spotlight.

The rehearsal drew to a close, dead bodies littering the stage as Fortinbras stood over the destruction, soldiers flanking him. Fortinbras spoke his final lines and the kids playing the dead characters were carried off stage. The curtains slid shut and the stage went dark.

The director and crew burst into polite applause.

The curtains were pulled back and the cast assembled on stage for their notes.

Violet looked up and found Francis sitting at the back of the room. He flashed her a thumbs-up and she smiled.

* * *

The next morning, Francis slept through his alarm.

No one noticed until Helen pointed out his absence from the breakfast table so Bob lumbered to his feet to go wake the teen up so he wouldn't be late for school.

Bob rapped on the door with his knuckles and waited a few seconds for a response. Nothing. Silence. Bob cracked the door open and looked into the bedroom. The room was dark; the curtains were pulled across the window. The lights from the hallway fell across the bed, illuminating a bare arm flung away from the covers and half of Francis' face turned towards the doorway. Bob stepped into the room. "Francis, wake up. You're going to be late."

Francis didn't stir. Bob frowned and stepped further into the room. He reached out and shook Francis' shoulder. "C'mon kid, breakfast is already on the table." Francis' head lolled limply at the movement but he didn't wake.

Bob's heart dropped. For one sick moment he thought Francis was dead. Bob withdrew his hand and clapped it over his mouth in horror, fighting back panic. Then he noticed Francis' clenched fists balled up in the sheets, the way his jaw was set, his brow furrowed. A trickle of sweat slid down the side of Francis' face. Bob searched for a pulse on Francis' wrist. He wasn't dead. Bob nearly shouted in relief.

Now that his heart wasn't hammering so loudly, Bob could hear Francis' ragged breathing and see the way the teen's chest jumped as he fought for each breath.

Francis may not be dead but there was something seriously wrong with him.

Bob ran back to the doorway and shouted for Helen.

* * *

Helen dropped what she was doing and ran out of the kitchen, the teenagers hot on her tail. She had never heard Bob shout like that before.

Her husband was standing in Francis' doorway, his face as pale as a ghost.

"What is it?" She gasped.

"Francis…something's wrong. He won't wake up." Bob explained as quickly as he could.

Helen turned to Virgil. "Get your father." She and Bob hurried into Francis' bedroom.

Virgil turned on his heel and dashed towards his father's suite. Violet stood in the doorway, watching as her parents pulled the sheets away from Francis and rolled the pyro onto his back. Helen found the pulse on Francis' neck and felt his forehead, nearly pulling away in shock when his skin almost burnt her hand.

"He's got a fever." Helen stated. "His breathing is erratic."

"What's going on?" Dash stood beside his sister in the doorway. "Why're people yelling?" He yawned sleepily. Dash's eyes widened when he noticed Francis lying still and pale on his bed. "What's wrong with Francis?" His voice jumped with worry.

Bob got up and ushered the kids away from the door, shutting it behind him. "Francis is sick. Give us some space guys."

Lucius and Virgil rounded the corner and stopped beside Violet, Dash and Bob. "What's the matter?" Lucius asked.

"Something is wrong with Francis. Go get Doc, quickly." Bob said.

Lucius nodded. "Right." He disappeared in the direction of the garage.

"What can we do?" Violet asked.

Bob shook his head nothing. "Nothing else, right now. We don't know what's wrong. We have to wait for Doc to get here until we know what next step to take. You guys go eat breakfast and look after Jack-Jack for the moment. Then, get ready for school."

"School? But…" Violet faltered, not sure what to say.

"Go on." Bob motioned. "It's not going to do any good if you three just stand outside the door, waiting. And just because Francis is sick does not mean a day off from school for the rest of you."

Virgil nodded and steered Dash away. "He's right. C'mon."

"But you'll let us know if we can do anything to help?" Violet asked.

"Of course." Bob smiled. Violet returned the grin and followed after Virgil and Dash. When his children had entered the kitchen Bob turned back to the door, the smile slipping off his face.

* * *

"So what's up Doc?" Lucius asked.

Doc Sunbright straightened from where he had been kneeling beside Francis' prone body. "It's a virus. A nasty one."

"So what do we do?" Helen asked, staring at Francis. The teen had been unresponsive thus far and it was fraying at her last nerve. Her motherly instincts were working on overdrive.

"Francis has a very weak immune system and so when he gets sick, he gets very sick. This virus in particular is straining his respiratory system. His temperature is flaring dangerously high in an effort to get rid of the virus but his body is not strong enough to handle the extremes of both the temperature and the strong virus. So first and foremost, we must kill the virus. Francis' body can handle high temperatures on its own so that's not my prime concern. If the virus dies, the fever will vanish with it." Doc rummaged in the big black suitcase he had brought along and came up with a hypodermic needle and a small vial of liquid.

"What's that?" Bob asked.

"A powerful liquid antibiotic of my own concoction. It should do the trick." Doc drew some of the liquid into the needle and pulled Francis' arm out from under the blankets. He found a vein and inserted the needle.

Doc continued, "Francis is going to need an intensive antibiotic treatment to get rid of this virus." Doc searched though his bag again and came up with some more vials. "A few shots of this every few hours should get rid of that virus in a few days."

"Should we take him to the hospital?" Helen asked. "That's probably for the best, don't you think?"

"Normally, I'd agree with you." Doc said. "But unless you want to explain a 130 degree fever to the hospital staff, I'd suggest Francis remain here. His room will need to be cleaned to sterilize it as much as possible. That will help ward off infection."

The Supers nodded their understanding. "You're right, we can't risk taking him to the hospital." Lucius agreed. "We'll have to make do here."

"We're all trained in first aid and can administer the shots ourselves." Bob explained. "Just tell us what to do and how often."

Over the next few hours the adults worked tirelessly to get a proper sterile environment for Francis. Helen gathered all of hi dirty clothes and linens and took them to laundry room. Lucius wiped down all the surfaces with an anti-bacterial scrub.

When the kids came home from school, there were a whole slew of things to explain.

"Why can't we see him?" Dash asked. His face was scrunched up with worry. "He's just sick. We get sick all the time. Mom always lets me sit in the living room and play video games all day. Why can't Francis come out? Or why can't we go in?"

Bob rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Dash, Francis is sicker than your average cold. For the moment, let's pretend Francis is at the hospital. He needs to be in a clean place so that he can get better faster. That means only a few people can go into his room, and we don't want any of you kids going in. Doc says the virus is contagious. We can't risk it spreading around the house, especially not with Jack-Jack."

Dash frowned but lowered his head, accepting the information.

Violet locked eyes with Virgil. He looked just as worried as she felt. "But he's going to be okay, right Dad?"

"Doc seems to think so, so that's what I think too." Bob answered.

"How long is going to be sick?" Virgil asked.

"We don't know. It's up to Francis."

Silence met that statement. None of the kids seemed satisfied with it.

Bob ruffled Dash's shock of blond hair fondly to try and ease the tension. "For the time being, try and keep things quiet, at least on the main level. Francis needs to rest. And none of you go into his room. Everyone understand?"

Murmurs of agreement echoed around the living room. A sense of unease fell over the Sanctum. Bob hadn't realized how quiet it was without Francis' loud voice or how much the pyro had become essential part of all of their lives over the few months he'd been living with them. Things just seemed wrong without the redhead up and about.

* * *

By the time Monday night fell on the Sanctum, Francis' temperature had fallen but he was still too warm to the touch. Since the initial treatment by Doc, Francis had stirred a few times. He would awake blearily and slur something nonsensical before he slipped back into a deep sleep; his exhaustion always got the best of him. Francis' body was putting all of its energy into fighting the invasive virus and consciousness was a luxury it couldn't afford.

The fourth day that Francis was out of school, Frieda approached Violet in the hallway.

"So where is he?" She asked bluntly.

"Who?" Violet cocked an eyebrow.

Frieda raised her own eyebrow to challenge the other teen.

"Oh, you mean Francis." Violet deduced. "He's sick."

"For four days?" Frieda asked, the challenging look replaced with one of worry. "Is it bad?"

Violet considered the question. None of the kids had been allowed into Francis' room since he had fallen ill. From what she gathered from the adult's conversations, Francis was pretty sick. He wasn't awake often and when he was he wasn't lucid. He still had a temperature but it was falling each day with the continued antibiotic treatment.

"Yeah. He's pretty out of it." Violet answered safely. She didn't want to scare Frieda.

"Maybe I could come see him? My mom makes a mean matzo ball soup that always makes me feel better when I'm sick." Frieda suggested.

Violet paled. "No! I mean…huh, you probably shouldn't. My mom says it's contagious. _I_ haven't even seen him in days and we live together."

"I could just drop it off. I want him to know I'm thinking of him." Frieda continued. "That's what a girlfriend does, right?"

Violet paused. "So, are you guys official now?"

Since their first date, Francis and Frieda had been hanging around each other a lot more often and were more physical with one another but nobody had thrown around the words boyfriend, girlfriend, or couple. Violet hadn't wanted to assume anything.

Frieda nodded, a small smile lighting up her face. "Yeah."

Violet smiled too. "That's great. I'm happy for you guys."

"Thanks." Frieda tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "So can I come over tomorrow? I'm going to be in Metroville visiting my cousin so I could…"

"I don't think…"

Frieda frowned and cut Violet off. "Why not? I just want to drop off the soup. I won't go into his room or anything. Promise."

Violet grasped at straws. "I'll ask my mom and text you later? Is that okay?"

Frieda shrugged. "Sure, okay."

* * *

"Frieda? Frieda wants to come here?" Helen asked.

Violet nodded. "She wants to see Francis."

Helen shook her head. "Oh no, look at this place. She can't." Superhero paraphernalia was everywhere. Virgil had left his mask and goggles on the table. Dash was zooming in and out of rooms with abandon. Jack-Jack, sitting in his high chair, let out a sneeze and burst into flames. The baby giggled and clapped his hands as his body became a raging inferno. Helen rolled her eyes. "No, that would not be a good idea."

"So what do I tell her?" Violet asked. "She's going to think it's weird, because it is."

Helen thought for a moment and then grinned. "We'll play the chaos card. Tell her your poor; frazzled mother can't handle a guest coming to see her messy, out-of-control home. Trying to control five kids, including one who is very and sick and a baby? We'll make it a pride thing. That seems ordinary enough, doesn't it?"

Violet nodded. "Yeah. That's should be okay."

Violet: hey Frieda, it's a no go on dropping by this weekend. my mom is freaking out about Francis and keeping the baby healthy and the house clean. she's sort of crazy but now's just not a good time. maybe once things calm down?

Frieda: I totally understand. That's fine; things must be hectic at the moment.

Violet: yeah, but since you're visiting, do u want to hang out at the mall on Sat?

Frieda: For sure! Bring Virgil; I miss seeing him since he transferred.

Violet: will do, c u then.

Violet tucked her phone away and grinned. Crisis averted.

* * *

Bob turned Francis' arm over and searched the teen's needle-bruised skin for a vein. It had been five days since Francis had fallen ill and the teen was showing marked improvement in his condition. He could stay awake for longer periods of time and his temperature had almost completely vanished. Doc had decreased the amount of antibiotics in Francis' treatment, which indicated that they were on the home stretch.

Francis was sleeping peacefully at the moment, his face buried into his pillow, one arm thrown over his head and his legs hopelessly entangled in the sheets. Bob finally found a vein and injected the antibiotics. Francis stirred in his sleep and his brow furrowed before he settled again.

Bob grinned and pulled the covers over the sleeping teen. He'd handled sick kids before; he had three of them after all. Bob had dealt with chicken pox and pneumonia and everything else under the medical spectrum but he had never seen such a sudden and violent virus like this one. When Francis had first come to the Sanctum, Bob had skimmed the boy's medical history and had seen that there were some issues, but he hadn't known how serious those issues were. Well, now he did know. And he was going to be watching Francis a lot more carefully from now on to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

Francis shifted in his sleep again, convulsing with shivers. A rivulet of sweat slid down from his brow and over his cheek as the pyro settled onto his side and his hand groped for something, eventually gripping the edge of his pillow.

Bob placed the back of his hand against Francis' temple, trying to gauge his temperature. He was still a little too warm for Bob's liking. A few more days of medication should fix that.

* * *

Francis opened his eyes and a small groan escaped his lips. He closed his eyes and tossed and turned for a second, trying to get away from the all-encompassing ache that had overcome his entire body. He blinked, trying to figure out where he was. The last time he had felt this awful was when he was ten. He'd gotten sick and had been confined to the government center's infirmary for almost a month. Francis fully opened his eyes and jerked his head in alarm.

He wasn't in a government center. He was in his own room.

Francis' brow furrowed and a wonderfully cool hand landed on his forehead, stilling his jerking movement. Francis looked up at the blurry figure bent over him. A few seconds later the blurriness sharpened and the teen recognized Helen leaning over him, worry etched into the features of her face. Her other hand had moved to the crook of his neck, her thumb tracing a soothing, circular motion on his cheek.

"Wha…?" Francis winced. His voice was far raspier than usual and it hurt to talk, his throat was dry and scratchy.

Helen seemed to sense Francis' distress and she reached for a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. Francis reached for it and his frown deepened when his hand trembled.

Helen helped Francis sit up, adjusting the pillows behind him to support his back and then helped him take a few small sips from the glass. Francis had never been so thankful for water before in his life. When it didn't feel as though his throat was on fire, Francis hazarded another attempt at talking.

"Wha' hit me?" Francis asked slowly, his voice breathy.

Helen smiled softly. "You got very sick. You've been asleep for almost a week." At Francis' startled look, Helen quickly added, "You woke up a few times but you weren't lucid. You had a high fever."

Helen pulled back the covers from around Francis' body and deliciously cool air quickly dried the sweat that had been making his body sticky. "It seems as though your fever broke."

The sheets were damp with his sweat and Francis was glad to have them away from him. He put his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes.

"What's the matter? Does something hurt?" Helen asked.

"Ever'thing." Francis muttered. "Dunno, 'm tired."

Helen busied herself with removing the sheets and blankets from Francis' bed and a few minutes later returned with a clean set. She made the bed quickly and gently and Francis sank back into the mattress, his eyes fluttering closed.

"You go ahead and sleep Sweetie. The worst is over. You're body's just trying to catch up." Helen explained as Francis drifted further and further away from consciousness.

"I'll wake up again?" Francis questioned tiredly. He didn't like the idea of losing another week of his life.

Helen pulled the blanket up to Francis' chest and he stared up at her with bleary, unfocused green eyes. "Yes, of course you will." She leaned over and planted a soft kiss on the teen's temple like she had done so many times before for her own children. The corner of Francis' mouth quirked up for a second and then his eyes closed. A few seconds later he was in a deep, rejuvenating sleep.

* * *

It wasn't until Tuesday that Francis was able to stay awake for several consecutive hours.

Virgil and Dash sat on Francis' bed, each was holding a hand of cards. Francis was propped up against the headboard, several pillows supporting his back. Each time his breathing got raspy, the pyro would reach for a glass of water sitting on the bedside table.

"Got any three's?" Dash asked. He grinned delightedly when Francis threw down a card.

Normally playing Go Fish would have embarrassed Virgil and Francis, but it was the only card game Dash knew.

Francis reached for his glass and took several long sips before rearranging the cards in his hand. "Um, any five's?"

"Go fish." Virgil recited. As Francis reached for the pile, Virgil took the opportunity to study the other teen. Francis was still very pale and dark rings circled his eyes. His breathing was better but Helen didn't want Francis getting out of bed and moving around unless it was absolutely necessary. The antibiotic treatment had been downgraded to one dose a day. The fact that the others kids were being allowed in to see Francis spoke volumes to his health. He was definitely on the mend.

Dash put down another set of matching cards and Virgil squinted at the younger boy in suspicion. "You're pretty good at this, huh?"

Dash nodded, but a flicker of mischief in his eye told Virgil everything he needed to know.

Virgil reached over Dash and the boy threw his cards down, grabbing hold of Virgil's arm, trying to hold him back.

Francis' mouth quirked into a smile and he pulled his knees up to his chest to allow the other two more room to fight on the bed.

Virgil got a hold of the edge of the blanket by Dash's side and he yanked it away. A small pile of cards lay underneath. Virgil gasped. "You cheater!"

Dash threw his body over the cards. "It's not what it looks like!"

Francis laughed, and immediately regretted it. His body spasmed with a sudden coughing fit. Virgil and Dash stopped fooling around and jumped into action. Virgil reached over and pounded Francis on the back and Dash darted off the bed to get the glass of water, but found it empty. Dash ran to the kitchen and back, the glass now nearly over flowing with water.

After a few seconds, Francis calmed down. He rubbed at his throat, wincing. "Ow."

"You okay?" Virgil asked.

"Yeah." Francis nodded. He reached over and pulled Dash up onto the bed with one arm before putting him in a gentle headlock. "What's the standard punishment for cheating at Go Fish?"

"Death by feather, I believe." Virgil whacked Dash in the face with a pillow.

Violet poked her head in the door and smiled when she saw the three boys goofing around. "Hiya, mom said to bring Francis some soup." She entered with a bowl and spoon in hand.

Virgil and Dash clambered off the bed and left the room, still shoving one another and laughing.

Francis' face turned a slight shade of green when Violet handed the bowl to him. He put it down on the bedside table.

Violet smiled understandingly. "Try to eat a little of it. You lost a lot of weight."

Francis scowled. "Did not."

Violet patted his arm condescendingly. "Okay. Whatever you say. I'll humor the sick kid."

"Hey, aren't you supposed to be at play rehearsal?" Francis asked. It was a little after four on a weekday. Normally play rehearsal ran until five or later.

Violet's cheery expression faltered for a second. "Rehearsal's over. The show was last weekend. We sold out both dates."

Francis' jaw dropped. "But…I…" He looked up at Violet. "I missed it?"

Violet tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Yeah, but it's okay. You've seen it a dozen times anyway."

"It's not the same." Francis grumbled. "I _wanted_ to see it. Was kinda looking forward to it."

Violet smiled and leaned over to kiss Francis on the forehead like her mother had done a few days prior. "That's sweet. Thank you."

Francis mumbled and shifted around in his bed uncomfortably.

Violet stood up. "I think you should really be thinking about what you're gonna tell Frieda."

Startled, Francis looked at Violet. "What?"

"She kept asking to come see you. Wanted to know if you were okay. I started running out of excuses." Violet explained. "She was worried about you."

"Oh man." Francis slumped back against the pillows. "Frieda. I didn't even think about her. What am I going to say?"

Violet shrugged. "You've got a couple days to think about it. I'm sure you'll come up with something."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Oh, man. It's been a while since I updated hasn't it? My life got CRAZY. And yet somehow, I manage to find the time to update during Finals week? There's something wrong with that. So like I said before, I WILL finish the story. It just might take a while.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	21. Chapter 21: Loose Ends

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twenty-One: Loose Ends**

"I swear, I'm fine." Francis protested, kicking irritably at the covers.

Helen looked up from where she was sorting Francis' laundry and offered the teen a practiced patient look, like a mother dealing with a three year old's temper tantrum, before returning to folding t-shirts. "Doc said to keep you in bed until the end of the week. You're not going anywhere mister."

Francis flopped back against the pillows and banged the back of his head on the headboard. Francis groaned and rolled over onto his side, cradling his head and muttering curse words under his breath.

"What was that?" Helen asked sharply.

"Nothin'." Francis grumbled.

The pyro was going on his second week of being confined to his bedroom. After suffering through a very intense, invasive virus, Francis had been ordered to remain in bed for a few more days to make sure the virus was gone from his system and his strength had returned.

Francis, however, had the attention span of a housefly and was rapidly becoming both bored and a nuisance to Helen and Bob, who had had to reprimand the teen several times a day since his fever had broken about staying in bed.

Helen tucked the laundry basket under one arm and turned to look at Francis. He tried look at pathetic as possible and Helen sighed. "Okay, okay. You can go lie on the couch and watch TV until the kids get home."

A grin leapt onto Francis' face and he flung the covers away from himself.

"But…" Helen stopped him. Francis' face fell. "You need to stay on the couch, under a blanket, and drink all of the orange juice I bring you without whining. Clear?"

"Yes ma'am." Francis agreed readily, desperate to get out of his room at any cost. It still smelled like the heavy disinfectant Bob and Helen had used to make the room sterile.

Francis hurried to the living room before Helen could change her mind. Bob leaned out of his office when Francis walked past but the teen just smirked at him. He had permission to be up and about, after all.

Francis launched himself onto the couch and got comfortable before turning the TV on. Francis frowned at the screen and flipped through the channels. Midday entertainment was pretty lame. Nothing but talk shows and soap operas. Francis landed on an old black and white movie. Some guy in a fedora was twirling an umbrella and frolicking through the rain while singing. Francis scowled; being sick could be so boring. He hated it.

Francis hated feeling so weak and vulnerable. He hated that the walk from his bedroom to the couch had left him a little shaky. He appreciated how the Parrs and Lucius were looking after him but he hated those sympathetic looks and answering the same questions over and over. Yes, he was feeling fine. No, he wasn't cold. Yes, he'd taken his medicine. No, he wasn't hungry.

Francis had gotten so dangerously sick only once before, when he was ten. He'd been living at a government center for Supers when he'd fallen ill. Having grown up in as sterile an environment there could be, Francis' immune system was weak and unprepared for the virus. It had hit him hard. He'd been confined to the government hospital for nearly a month and he was too weak to do anything but sit and read for a while afterwards. The center's doctors had put Francis on a strict regimen of vitamins that were supposed to boost his immune system and prevent another bout of illness.

After Francis had run away from the center, he'd stopped taking the medicine the doctors had prescribed. He knew it was only a matter of time before some disease got hold of him again. Francis was just thankful the illness hadn't been too bad and he'd been with people who had taken care of him.

Once Helen had found out Francis had neglected his medication all these years, she was furious with him. She didn't understand why he would take the risk. It was simple, but Francis didn't want to explain it to the Parrs. He just put on his best guilty face and took the pills Helen got Doc Sunbright to prescribe him again.

The reason Francis hadn't continued taking the pills after he ran away, despite knowing the risks, was that prescriptions could be traced. He was a fugitive, and Francis valued his freedom more than his health. In his mind, it was worth the risk. Of course, now Francis didn't have to worry about being tracked down by the NSA and would gladly take the medicine.

The house phone rang, startling Francis. He arched his neck to look over the back of the couch and watched has Helen answered the call in the kitchen.

Francis slid back down and leaned his head against the armrest. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something he had forgotten.

Francis sat up again. His cell phone! Where was it? He hadn't seen it since he'd gotten sick. Francs peered back over the couch and saw Helen thoroughly engaged in her phone call. Bob was working in his office. Jack Jack was down for his nap and everybody else was at school or work. Francis discreetly rolled off the couch and crawled on his hands and knees to the hallway.

So far so good, no nagging adults in sight. Francis got to his feet and tiptoed back to his room.

He looked around his room but didn't see the phone. Where had he left it? Francis thought back over the last two weeks. The afternoon before he had gotten so sick he wouldn't wake up, he'd gotten home from school feeling awful. Francis had done his homework and his Super homework before kicking off his clothes and crawling into bed, trying to will his raging headache away.

His pants. Francis looked for the pair of jeans he had been wearing that day. The cell phone had been in the pocket.

Francis' room was clean. Cleaner than it had ever been, thanks to the sterilization. There were no clothes on the floor.

"Laundry room." Francis muttered to himself. Helen had done his laundry.

Francis crept out of his room and headed for the laundry room. He passed Jack Jack's open door and a happy gurgle caught his attention.

Jack Jack was standing up in his crib, looking at Francis, arms extended towards the teen expectantly. The baby let loose a string of nonsensical sounds. Ever since he had uttered his first word, Jack Jack had become increasingly verbal.

"Sorry bud, I'm on a stealth mission." Francis whispered. He held a finger to his lips. "Shhh."

Jack Jack mirrored Francis' actions and held one pudgy finger to his own mouth.

Francis grinned. "You know, you're my favorite."

Jack Jack bounced up and down on his mattress and giggled happily.

Francis moved on before the baby made too much noise and brought Helen this way.

The pyro entered the laundry room and there, on top of the washer, was his cell phone. Helen must have found it in his pants pocket while doing the laundry and left it there.

Francis grabbed the phone and turned it on.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

Francis froze and turned his head to the doorway.

Helen was standing there, a smiling Jack Jack on her hip.

"Um, laundry?" Francis smiled in what he hoped was a charming manner. Helen didn't buy it.

"I gave you some very specific rules. Doc said not to overexert yourself. Look at you." Helen gestured with her free hand.

Francis frowned. He was breathing a little deeply but its not like he was about to collapse. "I was just getting my phone."

"Back to your room." Helen pointed down the hallway, her face stern.

"But…" Francis whined.

"No buts mister. Go."

Francis grumbled as he walked past Helen but another stern look sent him back to his room in silence. He flopped onto his bed and looked at the phone.

27 missed calls. 13 voicemails. 45 unread texts. Francis' eyes widened. "Whoa." He checked the calls first, over half were from Frieda. He dialed his voicemail. Most of those were from Frieda too. Francis winced. All of her messages had a sweet and concerned tone, wishing him well, wanting to know how he was doing, when was he going to be back at school, would he please call her when he got the chance?

Francis had no idea what he was going to say to her.

* * *

Come Friday afternoon, Francis had still not thought of what to say to Frieda and he was feeling like the world's worst boyfriend. Since he had the ok to go back to school on Monday, he was giving himself the weekend to think it over.

Dash's birthday was on Saturday and Helen had planned a party for the little speedster at an indoor playground with all of Dash's friends from school. The teenagers of the Sanctum had been roped into chaperone duty.

"Oh god, it's like a war zone in here." Francis stared in wide-eyed horror at the running, screaming masses of children as they stood in the doorway to the playground.

"Pops, I'm scared." Virgil backed up against Lucius.

"Stop whining and get in there." Lucius nudged the teens ahead to the group of tables in the back of the room where Helen and Bob were hanging decorations. Bob's face was red from blowing balloons.

"Oh, there you are." Helen looked up as the group approached. "You remembered to pick up the cake didn't you?"

Violet lifted the cake box as an affirmation. "Yup. You guys all set?"

Helen looked around the party area, running down a mental checklist. "Cake, pizza, gift bags, kids, balloons. Yeah, I think we're good." She paused to take a breath. She had faced down numerous super villains, piloted an airplane dropping from the sky, and raised three relatively normal and happy children. Helen Parr would not be undone by a twelve year old's birthday party. "Assignments." Helen announced. The adults and teenagers fell in around the table with stony expressions like they were receiving classified missions.

"Bob, you're supervising the hockey room. There may be padding in there but I don't trust these kids not to hurt themselves or each other." Her husband nodded.

Helen continued, moving onto the other members of the group. "Lucius, you're watching the arcade. Make sure none of the kids break any of the machines or steal each other's tickets. Violet, Virgil, you're manning the play area. Make sure no one gets stuck. No running and no shoes allowed inside."

"What about me?" Francis asked.

Helen swept Jack Jack out of his booster seat and plopped the baby into Francis' arms. "You're babysitting."

Francis' face fell. "Aww."

"You're not up to chasing a dozen preteens around sweetie." Helen explained gently. "Just make sure Jack Jack doesn't explode or anything like that."

Francis frowned but didn't argue. He'd had to fight to be allowed out of the house and to the party in the first place. He wasn't going to complain if all he had to do all day was watch Jack Jack and eat cake.

"Okay people, let's do this!" Helen clapped her hands together like a coach trying to psych up their team.

Virgil and Violet exchanged grins and walked away before they burst into laughter, heading for the indoor playground that was crawling with children.

Bob and Lucius headed off to their own areas to make sure the party ran smoothly. Francis sank into a chair at the table designated to the Parr party and sat Jack Jack on his knee, idly bouncing the baby up and down. Jack Jack clapped his hands and waved his arms about, enjoying the ride.

Dash came running over, at a normal speed, and latched onto Francis' arm. "Did you see all my presents!" Dash exclaimed. His cheeks were red from running around and he was talking faster than normal from all the sugar.

Francis glanced over at the adjacent table, overflowing with gift-wrapped boxes. "Looks like a good haul Shorty."

Dash nodded. "Did you get me a present?"

Francis hadn't had time to go shopping, being bedridden, but he'd had Violet pick something up for him at the mall to give Dash. "Sure did." Francis pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it over. Dash flipped the envelope over, trying to guess what was inside. It felt like a slim piece of cardboard was inside. Dash tried not to look disappointed and slit the envelope open with his finger.

Dash slid out the piece of cardboard and his eyes went wide. He looked from the envelope, to Francis, and back to the envelope. "What…?"

Francis smothered a laugh and just grinned. "You like it?"

Inside the envelope was an autographed Gerard Hamilton football card. What's more, it was a personalized autograph. **'To Dash, Happy Birthday speedster. Gerard Hamilton.'**

"Like it? It's the best thing anyone's ever got for me!" Dash was nearly vibrating in excitement. "How did you do this?"

"I heard Hamilton was doing an autograph signing at the mall. I had Violet go get it." Francis explained.

"You are the best." Dash's grin almost split his face in two. A shout from across the arcade got the birthday boy's attention. "Oh, I have to go. Me and Tyler are going to beat the high score on the Skeeball machine." He thrust the card at Francis. "Will you hold onto this so I don't bend it or something?"

Francis took the card. "Okay."

"You're awesome." Dash waved over his shoulder and darted away into the sea of kids.

Francis chuckled to himself and yanked the valuable card out of Jack Jack's reach when the baby made a grab for it. "Keep your sticky little hands off the merchandise kid."

Jack Jack tilted his head to the side like he understood what Francis said before reaching out again and grabbing a fistful of red hair, yanking Francis' head towards him. "Ow…ok, ok. Lay off." Francis groped around the table with his free hand and comes up with a forkful of cake. He maneuvered the food into Jack Jack's mouth and the baby released his death grip on Francis' hair to eat.

Francis pulled back and rubbed the abused spot on his head. "Strong grip."

Frosting was smeared on Jack Jack's face and the baby reached for more cake. Francis held the baby just out of reach and then distracted Jack Jack from the sugary treat by walking over to the ball pit and jumping in, holding Jack Jack to his chest. The cake was immediately forgotten and Jack Jack squealed in delight, squirming to play in the brightly colored plastic balls.

Francis laughed and dunked the baby before tossing him into the air and catching him again. Jack Jack let loose a peal of high-pitched giggles, nearly delirious with joy. Francis smirked. Best babysitter ever.

* * *

As the party was starting to wind down Helen walked over to Francis. Jack Jack was starting to nod off, exhausted from hours of play, and Francis was pretty tired himself. "Hey, I left some of the gift bags in the car. Would you go get them for me?"

Francis nodded, traded the sleepy baby for the car keys, and headed out to the parking lot. The Parr mini van was easy enough to spot. Francis walked over, unlocked the car, and pulled the trunk open. A cardboard box stuffed with plastic bags overflowing with candy was sitting there. Francis picked up the box and set it down on the pavement before reaching up to shut the trunk door.

The quiet sound of sneakers scuffing against pavement made the hairs on the back of Francis' neck stand up. There was muted laughter and conversation coming from a few cars away, and it was getting louder. Francis frowned and wondered why that bothered him. A loud cackling laugh suddenly broke through the chatter. Francis' eyes widened. He knew that laugh. He snuck a glance over his shoulder and noted a group of guys walking through the parking lot. They were obviously cutting through, trying to get to the pool hall a few buildings down.

All the teens were wearing loose, baggy clothing, and had white bandanas wrapped around their biceps or tied around their ankles. Francis turned back to the van, glanced down at the box of gift bags at his feet, and flushed a bright red. "Don't notice me. I'm not here." Francis muttered under his breath, watching in the reflection of the van's window as they group approached. They hadn't noticed him.

The group passed and Francis let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Yo, F!"

Francis cringed and looked up.

One of the teens in the group had turned around and was looking at him. "Hey, F-Stop, where the hell you been?"

The group turned almost in unison and walked back over to where Francis was standing. For the first time in months, Francis was face to face with his old crew.

Francis smirked. "Hey fellas. What's up?"

"Nothin' much man. Wonderin' where your sorry ass got to." A larger teen, Danny, shouldered his way to the front of the group. He was a couple inches taller than Francis and had a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. His dark brown hair was shaved into a mohawk and he had his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. "Where you been?"

"Nowhere." Francis kept his tone casual. "Somethin' came up." He could feel himself lapsing back into the old familiar grammar.

"Somethin' came up." Danny repeated.

Another teen, Roddy, spoke up. "We thought you were dead man. But you're not. What are you doin' here?" Roddy looked around, noted the car keys in Francis' hand and looked back at the mini van, then at the box of gift bags. "The hell? Are you playin' suburban housewife these days?"

The group laughed, it was a mean laugh. Francis scowled but didn't move, didn't react.

"It's hard to explain." Francis started.

"Not that hard man." Danny spoke again. "We haven't seen you in months, we think you're dead, you leave us in the middle of a turf war with Carlos and his crew, and now we find you just chillin' with some rich folk? That's not right man. You better have somethin' more to say."

Francis' jaw tightened with the effort not to start cussing and throwing punches. These guys had been his friends; they'd had each other's backs for years. Francis hadn't abandoned them. He'd been forced to stop seeing them. Now they were condemning him without letting him explain.

"I didn't want to go. They made me." Francis tried again.

"Who?" Roddy asked.

"That's not important. I didn't want to leave; it wasn't somethin' I could control. I didn't have any say in it." Francis tried to be as vague as possible. He was skirting around some classified information that he couldn't, by law, reveal.

"Sounds like bullshit to me." Danny said gruffly. His expression darkened.

"It's the truth." Francis said.

A short Hispanic teen stepped up. "I'm with Danny. You couldn't tell us anything? Not that you were goin' somewhere? That's weak."

"Herrero, I couldn't." Francis tried to make them understand. "I'm sorry."

"You're gonna be sorry." Danny advanced towards Francis, flanked by the other four teens.

Francis dropped one foot back and adopted the defensive position Bob had taught him. His green eyes narrowed as he swept his gaze over the gang. Five on one. And he wasn't in top form. This was going to be hard.

Danny swung first, he'd always been impulsive and short-tempered, and that's why he and Francis had gotten along so well. They'd been a lot alike. But while Danny had been throwing punches on street corners, Francis had been learning patience and how to fight smart.

Francis duck under the punch and side stepped a follow-up swing, skipping away from the van and the gang. He was light on his feet and Francis could use that to his advantage.

Herrero and Roddy leapt forward, trying to grab Francis and hold him still so Danny and the other two could wail on him.

Roddy got his arms around Francis' neck but the pyro slid out of his grip and tripped Roddy so he fell flailing into Herrero.

Danny and the other two formed a semi-circle around Francis and backed him up against an SUV. Francis clenched his fists and growled low in his throat. He'd broken the no fighting rule before, but Bob and Helen had made it very clear after his throw down with Wade that any more fighting outside of the uniform would be punished. Francis didn't know what to do. If he fought, he'd be in deep trouble. If he didn't, he was going to get his ass kicked. Francis wasn't sure what was worse. Lately, Helen's disappointed stare hurt a hell of a lot more than any punch.

Danny was frustrated, and when he got frustrated, he threw caution to the wind. Danny launched himself at Francis and caught the other teen by surprise; they both went tumbling to the pavement.

Francis brought his arms up to protect his face just as Danny sat up and started throwing punches. Francis was trapped under Danny's weight. He tried to bring his legs up and kick the larger teen away from him but Danny clamped his own legs around Francis' waist and held on tight. Herrero grabbed Francis' arms and pulled them up above the pyro's head. Herrero leaned both of his knees against the insides of Francis' elbows, keeping his arms pinned to the ground. Francis hissed in a breath when Herrero put his full weight against his arms.

Herrero and Danny exchanged a quick chuckle at Francis' discomfort and then Danny brought his right fist down onto Francis' face.

Francis' head smacked against the pavement and his vision dimmed for a second. Francis shook his head to clear his sight and frowned when black dots continued to dance along the periphery of his vision. Blood dripped from Francis' nose and slid down his cheek, forming a little puddle on the ground. Danny pulled his fist up again for a second strike.

Francis could hear the other three boys surrounding them, cheering on Danny. That's when it hit him. They were going to kill him. Francis sucked in a breath at the realization. They didn't want to just pay him back for abandoning them; it was way beyond that now. Light-headed or no, five against one or not, Francis wasn't going to just lie there and let them kill him.

Francis gritted his teeth and braced his feet against the ground. His arms were beginning to go numb but Francis pressed his elbows against the pavement to get as much purchase as possible and then with every ounce of strength he had, Francis flipped onto his side, dislodging both Danny and Herrero.

Danny fell onto his side and was frozen with shock for a second before he scrabbled to his feet. Herrero didn't get the chance to recover. Francis threw an elbow back and caught the Hispanic teen in the nose and he dropped to the ground, blood gushing over his chin.

Francis jumped to his feet and his head swam alarmingly. He shook again to try to clear his vision and brought his fists up. Roddy ran forward and tried to catch Francis in another tackle but Francis ducked his shoulder and let Roddy take the impact in his gut. Roddy stumbled back, gasping for breath and Francis let loose with a thunderous right-left combination and Roddy fell.

From behind him, Danny hit Francis in the back of the head. Francis' vision exploded into a blinding white and he stumbled forward, and dropping to his knees. He was breathing hard now but Francis struggled back to his feet and let his anger wash over him. He hadn't let himself lose control since moving in with the Parrs, but if he wanted to win this fight, Francis had to fight like the banger he used to be.

Before one of the teens standing on the outskirts of the fight could react Francis had sunk his fist into his stomach and the boy lurched forward, coughing up blood. Francis drove his elbow into the back of the teen's head and he sank to the ground.

That left Danny and one other, a newbie named Carter. Francis lifted his head wearily to examine the two. Carter looked just about ready to pee his pants. Danny was visibly shaking with fury. Francis fell back into his defensive posture.

Danny reached behind him and pulled a small handgun from the waistband of his pants. Francis' eyes widened.

"Cheat."

Danny smirked. "We weren't playing by any rules, _Francis_." He lifted the gun and pointed it at Francis.

Francis looked around, nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

Danny flicked the safety off and grinned.

Francis closed his eyes.

The gun went off.

Francis opened his eyes again, confused. He patted his body to check for any extra holes and didn't find any. He looked up.

Bob was standing beside Danny, one hand on Danny's wrist forcing the gun to point straight up, where the gun had gone off harmlessly.

Danny was looking up at Bob, shock on his face.

Carter took one look at Bob and turned and ran off as quickly as he could. He skid on a suddenly formed patch of ice and went flying into the bumper of a parked car. Lucius walked around from behind the car and grabbed Carter by the back of his shirt.

Bob wrenched the gun out of Danny's hand and then reached up and punched Danny once across the face. Danny slumped to the ground bonelessly.

Lucius dropped Carter beside Danny and then they both looked up at Francis.

Francis was breathing raggedly, sweat and blood dripping down his face. He looked at the two Supers and offered a weak grin. "Thanks."

Lucius went to Francis' side and pulled one of the teen's arms around his shoulders, supporting the pyro's weight. Francis coughed and flecks of blood dribbled down his chin. He laughed, but it sounded more like a gasp. "I'm not gonna get in trouble, am I?"

Bob cracked a grin. "No. I think we can make an exception."

Francis dropped his head onto Lucius' shoulder. "Good."

* * *

"Hey Frieda." Francis started hesitantly.

"Francis! Oh my god, are you okay? I haven't heard from you in forever!" Frieda sounded excited and anxious even over the phone.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Now, anyway." Francis grinned. "Sorry I didn't call you. I wasn't really up to it."

"I understand. Violet told me how sick you were. But you're okay now?"

Francis looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed and caught his reflection in the mirror. He had a bright blue bruise blossoming over his left cheek and a split lip. He certainly didn't look fine. "Yeah, I feel fine. I'll be back in school on Monday. You want to hang out after school or something? Get coffee or…?" Francis trailed off.

Frieda continued for him. "Actually a new movie came out this weekend and I wanted to see it with you. Want to do that tomorrow afternoon? We can go to the megaplex at the mall."

"Sounds good." Francis fell back against his pillows. "Hey Frieda?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you."

Francis could almost hear Frieda's smile. "I missed you too Francis."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Oooh boy. This is soooo late. My apologies to anyone still reading this. My life has gotten so hectic. It's not even funny. I can't find time to sleep, let alone write fanfiction. But I made a promise to finish this story and I will finish it if it kills me. It's a good thing we're approaching the finish though. I'm planning on thirty chapters, so only a few more to go. I can't promise another chapter soon. I have finals, then I have to move home, then my internship starts. I will try though, I can promise that. Oh and btw, for Dash's birthday party, I was thinking of something Chuck E. Cheese-esque, just so you know.

Sidenote: My reviewers are all so much smarter than me. Yes, I should have hooked Francis up to an IV last chapter instead of the constant shots. That was stupid of me. I acknowledge my mistake. But hey, I'm no doctor. Let's suspend reality for a little while so I don't feel so dumb, okay?

PLEASE REVIEW!


	22. Chapter 22: Exposition

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Exposition**

Francis' return to Dakota High School was met with very little fanfare, except from his girlfriend.

Frieda was waiting in the parking lot when Francis and Violet pulled in and she had enough restraint to not tackle-hug Francis until he'd turned the engine off.

Francis wrapped his arms around Frieda and just enjoyed the feel of her. She was wearing some kind of incredibly good smelling perfume. She felt warm and safe and Francis felt all the anxiety and tension of the last few weeks roll off him.

Frieda pulled back after a few moments, beaming excitedly at her boyfriend. "God, I missed you. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good." Francis reached up and pulled his helmet off. Frieda gasped at the sight of his face.

"What? What happened…?" She tentatively reached out to touch the bruising under Francis' eye. Her finger was cool on his skin. Francis leant into her hand. Frieda explored the bruise for a moment before locking eyes with Francis. "Well?"

"Nothing, it was nothing." Francis looked over at Violet for help, but she only shook her head and moved away towards the school. He was on his own with this one.

"Well I can see it's not nothing." Frieda said. "C'mon." She pulled on Francis' hand to get him to stand up. Francis shouldered his backpack and slung an arm around Frieda, pulling her close to him as they walked towards the entrance.

"What happened?" Frieda asked again.

Francis sighed. "You're not gonna let this go huh?"

"I think I deserve to know why my boyfriend shows up after two weeks looking like he was in a gang fight," Frieda retorted petulantly.

Frieda felt Francis tense. "Oh, did I just guess it?"

"Sort of." Francis admitted. "Look, it was back in Metroville. Some guys I used to roll with took exception to my face."

Frieda looked up at Francis. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am." Francis smiled at her. "It's over with anyway. For good."

"Good." Frieda snuggled deeper into Francis' side, enjoying how her body perfectly melded to his. "Not that the whole rugged and scarred look isn't attractive, but I prefer you unbruised."

"Noted." Francis grinned.

The couple arrived at Frieda's locker first and she detached herself from Francis to open the locker and get her books. She smiled impishly at Francis. "So, do you want to know how many tests you missed while you were gone?"

Francis groaned. "Not even a little."

* * *

"Hi Virgil!"

Virgil looked up and waved at Daisy. She was hurrying up to the Vanmoor Institute's entrance laden down with charts and papers. Virgil rushed to help her before she dropped something.

"Thanks." Daisy smiled. She blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I swear, this project Specs and Trapper have us working on is going to kill me. The workload is ridiculous."

Virgil laughed. "Yeah, but it's actually kind of interesting. I may hate the dastardly duo something fierce, but even I have to admit they're like super geniuses or something."

"Eloquent as always Virgil." Daisy said with a teasing grin. They walked into the school's lobby and Daisy stopped short, her eyes widening. "Oh my god."

"What?" Virgil looked around, expecting to see something shocking. There was nothing around except a handful of people talking near the office.

"That's Edwin Alva." Daisy hissed, eyes locked onto the stately figure of a white-haired man shaking hands with Mrs. Bancroft, the school's principal.

"That's Alva?" Virgil looked the man over. He was dressed impeccably in an expensive looking suit and seemed to be doing all the talking. Mrs. Bancroft was listening intently and kept nodding.

Edwin Alva was the richest man in Dakota, possibly the richest man on the East Coast. He owned nearly half of Dakota and was responsible for funding every major research and development facility in the area, including the Vanmoor Institute. He must be dropping in to check on his investment.

"Who's the scarecrow standing next to him?" Virgil whispered to Daisy.

"That's his son, Edwin Jr." Daisy answered. "He graduated from here a few years ago. Now he works for his dad."

The son seemed the very opposite of the father. At least in demeanor. Where Edwin Alva the senior practically radiated intelligence and confidence, Edwin Jr. was the personification of discomfort and uncertainty. He stood slumped beside his father, staring at the floor, hands jammed into his pockets.

"Well isn't' he just a ray of sunshine?" Virgil muttered.

"Be nice." Daisy scolded. "Come on. We're going to be late for class."

* * *

The days were getting warmer. Most of the snow was gone, leaving behind only dirty slush in the gutters. For the first time since autumn, Violet wasn't wearing a heavy winter coat as she and Francis walked out of the school towards the parking lot.

The students were all in a cheerful mood, the signs of the coming spring animating them and drawing them outdoors. Instead of racing for their cars to head home as quickly as possible, they were lingering on the grounds talking in small groups. A group of boys was passing a football back and forth. Some senior girls were sitting on the hood of a car, blasting music through the speakers. The students could feel summer fast approaching.

Violet tilted her head back to luxuriate in the feel of the sun's warmth on her face. "It's so nice outside."

Francis looked around. "Yeah."

"You know what, I kinda want to stick around a little. Virgil said he was going to come into town today to hang out with Richie. We could all walk up to mall or something." Violet said.

Francis looked over Violet's head and noticed Frieda standing with a group of her friends from newspaper. "That sounds okay. I'm gonna go ask Frieda if she wants to go."

Violet snorted.

Francis turned to look at her. "What?"

"No, nothing." She smiled. "It's just you're so coupley. It's kind of funny. I didn't think you'd be Mr. Boyfriend but you totally are."

Francis pouted a little. "I think I'm offended."

"No, don't be. It's a good thing." Violet shoved Francis' shoulder. "Go. We'll catch up at the mall."

Francis nodded before turning to trot over to Frieda. She saw him coming and smiled as he approached. Her friends all greeted him warmly before excusing themselves.

"Hi." Francis said. "Violet wants to go to the mall with Virg and Richie. Wanna come?"

"Sure. That sounds like fun." Frieda hooked her arm in Francis'. "Drive me?"

"You wanna ride the bike?" Francis looked surprised. Frieda had never ridden on his motorcycle before.

"Yeah. You have a spare helmet right?" Frieda asked.

"Yup, you can use Violet's." Francis led Frieda over to the bike and pulled the helmets out of the storage compartment before straddling the bike. Frieda slipped onto the seat behind him and put her helmet on. Francis made sure Frieda was comfortable before putting his own helmet on and starting the engine. Frieda jumped as the rumble of the engine shot through the bike and she wrapped her arms tightly around Francis, leaning against his back.

Francis grinned and shot forward. The motorcycle careened out of the parking lot and onto the main road. Frieda's grip tightened. "Whoa!"

Francis laughed out loud and Frieda punched his shoulder. "I heard that! Slow down!"

* * *

"Gotcha freak." Francis tackled the purple-haired Super and the two went sprawling to the ground.

The other boy was on his feet in an instant, a disturbingly wide smile on his face. "Nuh uh, I got you!" His hands glowed purple and sharpened into blades and giggling to himself the teen slashed wildly at Francis.

Francis backpedaled, desperately trying to keep out of range of the arcing blades.

"I could use a little help!" Francis called out.

One of the blades swung towards him, on a collision course with side of Francis' neck when it impacted against a bubbly force field that manifested in front of Francis.

"Good timing." Francis said, his eyes wide.

Violet materialized before the pyro and grinned. "One of the best parts of working in a team…" She looked at the confused purple-haired boy in front of her and forced the shield forward, throwing the boy back onto his butt. "…is someone's always got your back."

"Am I missing the fun again?" Virgil swooped in on his disc, surveying the scene. "Traffic was terrible."

Virgil landed beside Violet and Francis, the three teens turning to face the Super.

Today during lunch, new reports had come on stating that there was a rogue Super terrorizing the downtown Dakota area. Francis and Violet immediately made excuses and rushed to change into their uniforms before heading out to the scene.

What they found was an Asian boy about their age with the power of shape shifting his hands into any weapon imaginable. When they had arrived, he'd been chopping through a storefront window with an ax he'd made from his right hand. While the Sanctum teens had been trained to try and talk their opponents out of a fight if possible, to avoid injury and property damage, it was clear there would be no reasoning with this Super. There was something wrong with him mentally, the longer the fight went on and the more brutal it became, the more delighted he became. He seemed to relish in the excitement of fighting and did not want it to end. Even more unsettling was his clear enjoyment for hurting others. He slashed without restraint at the two superheroes, not caring that if one of his swings connected it could be fatal.

The Super got to his feet and started giggling again, his entire body convulsing with glee. "Alright, now it's a party!"

Virgil cast a confused look at Francis and Violet. "Stay out of his range." Violet warned him. "We're going to have to incapacitate him from afar."

"Aerial attack?" Virgil suggested hopefully.

"Yeah." Francis agreed.

"Come at him from behind, we'll distract him." Violet added. "Make sure you immobilize his hands somehow, wrap them in metal."

"Gotcha." Virgil jumped back onto his disc and shot straight up into the sky.

"Hey! Where you going?" The Super followed Virgil's ascent with his eyes.

"Over here!" Francis called at him. The Super's eyes locked onto the pyro.

"What's your name?" Violet asked in a soothing tone. They had to keep the Super's attention focused on them. Maybe they could get him talking.

"Shiv." The Super answered.

Francis quirked an eyebrow. "A little obvious don't you think?"

Shiv smirked, and there was that dangerous glint in his eye, the one that reminded Violet they were dealing with someone not to be taken lightly. "I like knives."

Shiv's hands glowed again and suddenly morphed into long blades again. The Super launched himself at the other two. Francis and Violet dove in opposite directions. Shiv followed after Francis.

Francis got back to his feet in time to duck a swipe. Shiv kept pressing forward, hacking away with abandon. Francis stepped backward and caught his heel on the edge of the sidewalk, toppling over backwards. Shiv pounced. Francis rolled away but still caught a glancing cut to his right shoulder.

Francis leapt to his feet and put a hand to the wound, his fingers came away sticky with blood. Shiv's grin widened. Francis' eyes glowed red with anger and flames crept up his body. Francis ducked another swing of the blades and smashed his fist into the underside of Shiv's chin, fire erupting at the point of contact.

Shiv was thrown backward, his chin and neck burned by the punch. Before he could resume attacking the pyro, Static made his entrance. He'd found a giant slab of sheet metal at a construction site the next block over and magnetized it around Shiv's body, completely encasing him. Shiv wobbled unsteadily for a moment before Violet walked over and toppled him with a light shove.

Virgil landed beside her. They both looked over to Francis. He'd calmed down and reined his powers in. He still held his bleeding shoulder with one hand. He noticed their concerned looks and threw them a thumbs up to reassure them. "It's nothing."

"You're saying that too often lately." Virgil remarked.

Police cars skid onto the street and stopped in front of the teenaged superheroes. One officer got out, his weapon drawn, and assessed the situation. "We a little late?"

"Yeah, but you can bring him in if you want." Violet gestured at the trapped Shiv. "Do you guys have NSA power suppressors on hand?"

"Back at the station yeah." The officer answered. He motioned for a few other cops to deal with Shiv. He looked back at Violet. "You guys alright?"

Virgil has walked over to Francis to examine the cut. It was indeed just a shallow wound. They wouldn't even have to call Doc Sunbright in to deal with it. "We're fine, it's just a flesh wound."

The cops went around the area, taking statements and talking with storeowners whose property had been damaged.

Violet walked over to her two partners and threw her arms around them. "Let's go home guys."

* * *

"Hey Pops." Virgil walked into his father's room. "What's happening?"

"Virg, you guys are home late." Lucius stuck his head out of the closet, an untied tie draped around his neck.

"Yeah, we got sort of hung up with something." Virgil jumped onto his dad's bed and reached for the sports magazine on the bedside table.

"And that something wouldn't happen to be a psychotic knife-wielding Super would it?" Lucius emerged, dressed in a slacks and a nice collared shirt.

Virgil sat up. "Whoa Pops, looking good. Got a hot date?"

Lucius smirked and turned to the mirror. "You didn't answer the question."

"It seemed rhetorical." Virgil got up and walked to stand beside his father. He reached for his dad's favorite cologne and sniffed it.

"Is Francis okay?" Lucius asked, reaching for the aftershave.

Virgil put the bottle down. "Yeah, Helen fixed him up. You didn't answer my question."

Lucius looked at him sideways. "Which was?"

"Where're you going all spruced up?"

Lucius hesitated. "I've got a date."

Virgil snorted. "Very funny Pops. I was just joking."

"No, really." Lucius turned to Virgil. "It's with a woman who works for the same firm I do. Her name is Trina. We're going to dinner in the city."

Virgil dropped his gaze to the carpet. "Oh."

Lucius sighed and ran a hand across his face. "Look Virgil, I know this is new for you. I haven't dated since your mother died. But it's been almost eight years. I feel good about this, I really like Trina."

Virgil nodded. "Yeah, I get it. You should date if you want to. It's fine."

Lucius put a hand on the back of Virgil's neck in a comforting manner. "Are you going to be okay with this? I don't want to make you uncomfortable. No matter what Virgil, you are the most important thing in my life. I want you to be okay."

Virgil looked up and smiled at his dad. "It's okay." He saw the skepticism in Lucius' eyes. "Really. It's a little strange. But I'll get used it." He punched his father's shoulder lightly. "I hope you have fun tonight."

"Thanks son." Lucius pulled Virgil into a one-armed hug. "Don't wait up."

Virgil pushed Lucius away, laughing. "Ugh Pops, don't even."

* * *

The next day, Frieda and Violet were sitting on the bleachers in gym class with a group of other girls, passing around a magazine.

On the court, Francis was playing basketball with some other guys, but he would glance up every now and again to see what Frieda was doing. At one point he looked up and Frieda's face was a bright red and Violet was looking right at him.

Francis frowned in confusion and bowed out of the game, sneaking up on the group of girls.

"Wow Frieda, a 100% match." One of the girls, Heather, remarked. "That's pretty telling."

Violet pretended not to notice Francis slinking up behind them. "Yeah, and you're the only one who scored that high for him. Everybody else were Static girls."

"You haven't taken the test yet Vi." Frieda pointed out. Her cheeks had gone as red as her hair. "Don't you want to figure out your superhero love match?"

Violet grinned and shook her head. "No, not really."

Francis settled down behind Frieda and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Watcha doin'?"

Frieda jumped and the other girls started laughing. Frieda turned and smacked Francis' shoulder. He hid a wince. "You scared me!"

Francis smirked. "I'm not even a little bit sorry." He looked around at the circle of girls. "So what're you doing?"

"Nothing." Frieda said quickly.

Another girl, Jess, held up the magazine they had been passing around. It was one of those cheap teenybopper magazines and it was opened to a page that had Hotstreak on one side against a red background and Static on the other against a blue background. The bold typeface read, "Which hottie Super is perfect for you? Take our love test and find out."

"Frieda scored a 100% for Hotstreak." Jess said. "Face it Frieda, you're a Hotstreak girl."

Francis felt a smirk on his face and Violet nudged him. Right, he shouldn't be happy about his girlfriend taking a love test for another guy. Even if it wasn't really another guy. 100% huh?

"It's just some silly test. Right Francis?" Frieda leant backwards into Francis' chest. He wrapped his arms around her.

"Right." He agreed.

"Did you guys see the news footage of that fight yesterday?" Heather asked. "It was pretty intense. I hope Hotstreak didn't get hurt too bad."

"It didn't look that bad." Violet answered.

"I swear, all of the weirdoes are coming out of the woodwork now that the superheroes are back. Thanks god for the good ones. We'd be in some serious trouble without them." Jess added.

The bell rang just then, signaling the end of gym. The girls started to get up to go to the locker room and change. Francis stepped down the bleachers with Frieda and they started for the locker room. One of the boys Francis had been playing basketball with passed by him and tugged on his shirtsleeve, revealing the edge of a clean white bandage on his shoulder.

"Here's your basketball." The boy handed Francis the ball and walked away.

Francis bounced the ball and looked at Frieda, who was staring intently at his shoulder. "What?"

Frieda shook her head. "Nothing. Want to go grab something from the snack bar?"

"I think you know me too well." Francis grinned.

Frieda smiled back but she couldn't shake the image of that bandage. Yesterday, she had seen the superhero Hotstreak get cut in the exact same place. But it had to just be a coincidence. Didn't it?

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Whoa. It's been a loooong time since I updated. I swear, it's the weirdest thing. I can't write even a sentence over summer vacation, when I have oodles of free time, but the second I get back to school and my life gets hectic I can write. Shouldn't it be the other way around? Sorry this took so long. Also sorry this chapter's kind of short. Don't worry, the next one should be pretty intense. Also, what is this? Foreshadowing? Since when do I foreshadow? Look at me being all writery.

PLEASE REVIEW!

FHGVZEhyde


	23. Chapter 23: Things Best Unseen

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Things Best Unseen**

Spring was in full bloom.

The air was warm, the sun's light lingered longer into the evening, and every student at Dakota High School was developing rapid and severe cases of spring fever.

Francis stared out the window, watching two birds dip and swirl through the clear blue sky. His gaze flickered to the biology worksheet in front of him and then to the blackboard at the front of the room. Mr. Harrison was describing osmosis, his voice a dull buzz in the silent classroom.

Francis rested his chin on his fist and slumped in his seat. He was bored.

And not just with class.

No villains had shown themselves in weeks. The training at the Sanctum was becoming repetitious and dull. Francis wanted something new, something challenging. He felt like a coiled spring, all tightly repressed energy and no bounce.

The bell rang. Mr. Harrison looked up from the textbook in surprise. He snapped the tome shut. "Don't forget we have a test next Friday, right before Spring Break begins. Don't let the nice weather make you forget about studying."

The students collected their belongings and shuffled out of the classroom.

Francis found his locker and exchanged his biology book for his Spanish one. His bored expression shifted into a slight smile. Spanish meant he could sit next to Frieda and distract her from her perfect notes by doodling inappropriate pictures in the margins for an entire hour.

He passed the gym on his way to Spanish and a bulletin board strewn with brightly colored flyers caught the pyro's attention. Francis read the notice and grinned. That was something new.

* * *

"Hey, could I talk to you guys for a second?" Francis stood in the doorway to the observation room over the Loft. Bob spun in his chair away from the control panel and waved Francis in.

"Sure, have a seat." Bob patted the chair beside him.

Helen was watching Dash run a training exercise in the room below. Since Dash was so much younger than the other teens, he trained on his own in a specialized program designed to help him hone his speed in battle situations. Once Dash reached high school, he'd be allowed in on the group training the other teens had. At the moment the little speedster was zipping around the Loft at a breakneck speed, dodging obstacles as they popped up at random intervals.

Francis waited until the training ended and Dash had received his critique from his parents.

Bob shut off the simulation and then both Parrs turned their attention on Francis.

"I wanted to ask if I could stay after school late next week?" Francis asked, idly twisting the chair back and forth.

"What for?" Helen asked.

"Baseball tryouts."

Bob's eyebrow shot for his hairline. "Really?"

Francis didn't know whether to be insulted or amused so he kept his face impassive. "Yeah, I want to play. I'm pretty good. Plus, I'm bored."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea." Helen began. "Would it be drawing too much attention?"

Francis sighed. "Look, I know why you worry about Dash doing sports is because he's got an athletic power. If he accidentally used them in front of a crowd, it could be a problem. But I don't have a power like that. Am I going to light the bat on fire when take a swing? No." Francis shrugged. "I mean, yeah I'm pretty athletic on my own, but there are guys at school who can compete with me. I don't think it'll be an issue."

Helen and Bob exchanged glances.

Francis sighed again. He hated when they held little silent conversations between the two of them. It was so parentally.

"Next week is when tryouts are. So I have to make the team before anything else." Francis added.

Finally, Bob nodded. "I guess it's alright for you to try out. If you make the team, we're going to have to have a discussion about what you're allowed to show on the field. We've been drilling certain techniques and practices into your everyday life that would seem out of place on a baseball diamond. Things that would make people ask questions. We don't want people to ask questions."

Francis nodded. "I understand. I'll try not to stick out too much."

"Well," Helen moved forward and placed a motherly kiss on Francis' forehead. "That doesn't mean you can't go out there and do your best."

* * *

"Brown, Kipling, Henderson, Stone." The baseball head coach looked up from his clipboard at the row of teenaged boys sitting the dugout. "You boys are batting first. You get three strikes. The rest of you get into pairs and start throwing the ball around. We'll rotate in a few minutes."

All of the boys immediately got to their feet, most of them grabbing, gloves, a ball, and a partner before finding some open grass to start playing catch.

Francis and three other boys stayed in the dugout. The head coach, Barnes, sent his assistant coach out to the mound with a bag of baseball and indicated for the four to line up in a batting order.

Francis found himself at the end of the line and he leaned against the chainlink fence that wrapped around the diamond. The first to step up to the plate was a scrawny little freshman named Oliver Brown. Francis noticed the kid's right arm was significantly stronger than his left. A pitcher. He smirked. This should be interesting.

Sure enough, two of Brown's three strikes were whiffed at. He managed to get a hold of the last pitch and it fouled back into the fence. Francis jerked his head back as the chainlink rattled.

Kipling and Henderson were both strong seniors who were returning to the team for their last year. Scott Henderson was co-captain of the team. They were veterans and acted like it. There was so much swagger rolling off of Henderson Francis found himself watching the older boy's technique, trying to remember the way he shifted his right foot into the dust for a firmer base when swinging at a pitch.

Henderson popped two pitches to far left field and his last swing took the ball over the outfield fence. Henderson and Kipling high-fived as they left the field.

Barnes gestured for Francis to take his turn at the plate.

The bat was light in Francis' hands. He tightened his grip and choked up like he had seen Kipling do. He twisted his right foot like Henderson had.

The assistant coach's first pitch was a beauty, right over the plate.

Francis stepped into the pitch and felt the ball collide with the midsection of wooden bat.

The ball sailed high into the air and arched gracefully over the centerfield fence.

Barnes turned to look at Francis. "What's your name kid?"

"Stone, Francis Stone." Francis stepped out of the box, a grin creeping up his face.

As tryouts progressed and cuts were made, Francis advanced round after round. By Friday, he was still in contention for a spot on the varsity team.

Francis hadn't tried out for a specific position, but he found himself behind the plate wearing catcher's gear, throwing signals to Brown, who had somehow managed to stick it out as well.

Francis adjusted his mask, and threw one finger down. Brown nodded and checked the runner at first. Fastball.

Brown reared back and pitched. It was a nice pitch. It would have been a strike against just about anybody else.

Unfortunately for Brown, Henderson was at bat and he nailed the ball through a gap in the infield for a solid double.

Brown sighed and tugged on the brim of his cap.

Francis settled back down into a crouch and pounded a fist into his mitt.

The next batter was another varsity veteran, Tommy Howes. He tapped the end of his bat against home plate and confidently fell into his batting stance.

Brown's pitch flew over the plate again and Howes swung, catching the edge of the ball. It fouled back at Francis' face. It struck him in the mask and Francis stuck his glove out instinctively, catching the ball and falling backwards simultaneously.

Howes shouldered his bat looked down at Francis with worry. "You okay man?"

Barnes jogged over to Francis to make sure he was alright. Francis pulled the mask off and sat up. As Barnes approached, the pyro looked up and grinned, holding the caught ball up. "That's an out, right?"

Barnes stopped, frowned, and then burst into laughter. "Sure is. You're out Howes."

Howes grinned, flashed Francis a thumbs up, and trotted back to the dugout.

At the end of the day, when Barnes announced his final roster, Francis' name was scrawled in under catcher.

* * *

"So this is certainly new." Frieda looked at Francis the next day, the last day of school before spring break. She reached up and adjusted the hood of Francis' new Dakota High School varsity baseball sweatshirt. All of the guys who had made the team were wearing the hoodies to celebrate tryouts being done with.

"A good new?" Francis asked.

"A great new." Frieda reassured him. She smiled. "Who would have thought that that short-tempered ex-banger who walked through those doors last fall would be an honor roll student and newly turned jock in the spring."

Francis wrinkled his nose. "Damn, I am a jock now aren't I?"

Frieda laughed. "I'll let you in on a little secret." She leaned in close to him, like she was whispering the pass code to the U.S. Mint in his ear. "Girls may fall for the bad boy, but they stick around for the nice guy." Frieda pulled back, running her hands down the front of Francis' sweatshirt. "Just so you know."

* * *

The first day of spring break was perfect. The sun rose early and bright, casting a pleasant golden glow over the Sanctum. The Supers within the Sanctum didn't see the lovely sunrise, they were already below ground training, using the vacation time to their advantage to hone their powers and teamwork.

Virgil and his father were in the Loft running a training exercise. Bob, Dash, and Francis were in the control room monitoring. Well, Bob was monitoring. Francis had a sociology book open in front of him and he was reading up on differential association. Dash was pretending to be studying the Superhero playbook he had to have memorized.

"So I hear you made the team?" Bob asked suddenly.

Francis glanced up from the book, raised an eyebrow, and then resumed reading. "Yeah, catcher."

"Congratulations." Bob frowned, his hand hovering over the termination switch. Virgil was coming dangerously close to those blades.

"You know, you can say whatever is you want to say." Francis muttered.

Dash looked up and closed the playbook, this was more entertaining anyway.

Bob spared a glance at Francis, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Fair enough. I told you before I'm concerned about what might happen during a game or practice. You've been working on exercises and skills in here that normal teenagers don't know. If you stick out too much, people are going to starts asking questions."

Francis nodded. "I know. That's why I went out for catcher. Most of the time, I'm just hanging out behind the plate. When I do have to make a play, I'll make sure it's nothing that will get people talking. When it comes to batting, I'll purposefully strike out sometimes, just to make sure my numbers stay average."

Bob smiled. "Sounds alright then. When does practice start?"

"When we get back from break, so I'll need to stay after school." Francis said.

"We'll work out a new training schedule." Bob agreed.

"You're on the baseball team?" Dash asked.

Francis looked up and grinned at the boy. "Yeah."

"That's cool. Can I come to your games?"

Francis shrugged. "That's up to your parents."

Dash shifted his hopeful gaze to his father. Bob reached out and ruffled Dash's hair. "We'll see."

* * *

Helen was manning the communications system in the underground HQ when the call from Dicker came through. His tired and worn face appeared on the screen, more wrinkles lining his features than Helen remembered.

"Helen, good to see you."

"Rick, what's the matter." It was clear something was wrong.

Dicker rubbed a hand over his face. "As you might know, the NSA has been looking into Syndrome's activities and the murders of various Supers over the last 20 or so years. A throughout investigation has taken place."

"And you've found something." Helen filled in the blanks.

Dicker nodded. "We raided one of Syndrome's base of operations here in the States and we came across several video archives. We know Syndrome had cameras all over Nomanisan Island, and it seems he recorded all of the encounters Supers had with his Omnidroid prototypes."

Helen's brow furrowed. "You're saying…he filmed the fights and…the deaths of all of those Supers?"

Dicker nodded again. "There are very detailed noted to accompany the videos, about how the robots operated, places for improvement, that sort of thing."

"Why are you telling me this?" Helen asked.

Dicker's face was grave. "We need you and your team to analyze this videos."

Helen opened her mouth to object but Dicker spoke over her. "You, Bob, and Lucius are the only living Supers with first hand knowledge of these machines, Syndrome's actions, and the strategies of the other Supers. Your insight is invaluable. You'll be able to help us pinpoint dates, motives, and a chain of events. Whatever conclusions you draw will be added to the case we're putting together against what remains of Syndrome's benefactors."

The conflicted look on Helen's face must have shown. "We are not asking for the kids' input. They don't have to know anything about this." Dicker was quick to reassure. What he was really saying was Francis didn't have to know about this. His mother and father's last moments were potentially on those tapes.

Helen mulled the thought over but realized there was only one answer she could give. "Yes. We'll do it."

"I'll send the tapes over. And Helen, thank you." Dicker didn't smile, then again, he hardly ever smiled, but his gratitude was evident. Whether Dicker would ever admit it or not, the Syndrome murders weighed heavily on him. Over a dozen Supers he was responsible for were now dead. Somewhere, he had failed them.

Helen smiled and nodded her understanding before terminating the call. She swiveled around in the chair. Now she had to go break the news to Bob and Lucius that they had to watch videos of their friends and colleagues being murdered and then write up a report on it.

* * *

The tapes arrived the next day via an undercover NSA delivery team. Helen exchanged code words with the man with a not so concealed weapon on his belt before taking the slim box from him. She shut the door and opened the lid. A row of shiny silver discs glinted at her.

Bob had heard the door open and close, he walked out of the kitchen to see who it was. He found his wife leaning against the door, staring down at a box she was clutching against her chest.

"Is that…?" Bob asked.

Helen nodded. "Yes."

"That was fast."

"They must be in a hurry to get this done with." Helen answered. She sighed heavily and put the lid back on the box. "The kids are going to the mall today?"

"Yeah, Violet just said they're leaving in an hour." Bob said. They could hear the excited voices of the kids talking in the kitchen.

Helen handed the box to her husband. "We'll do this after they're gone. Take these down to the communications room."

Bob nodded and hurried away. Helen took a moment to plaster a smile on her face before walking back to the kitchen.

* * *

"Oh my god. Dash, what did you put in this cup holder?" Virgil tried to wipe his now sticky hand on his pants. His fingers stuck to the fabric.

Dash leaned over the headrest to look. "Oh. Blue raspberry slushie." He grinned. "Looks like Smurf vomit."

"Oh. Ew." Violet wrinkled her nose.

Francis rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm really looking forward to this exciting day out."

"Your sarcasm has been noted, and is not approved of." Violet said cheekily. She opened the driver's side door. "Get in and start being useful."

Francis raised an eyebrow at her. "You're being unusually bossy. What crawled up your butt?"

"Nothing." Francis leveled Violet with an unbelieving look. Violet sighed. "Fine, I'm meeting Tony and I don't want to be late."

"Oooh, Tony Rydinger." Dash sing-songed from inside the car.

"Shut up." Violet snapped without looking at her brother. "So, c'mon. Let's go. We were supposed to have left a half hour ago, but some people thought it would be funny to hide my purse." With that last line Violet did turn her glare on Dash before looking back at Francis. "You're the only one who can drive."

"Yeah, and I'm meeting Richie so if we could get going that would be great." Virgil suggested sarcastically from the passenger seat.

"Okay, okay." Francis held up his hands in defeat. "Just let me…" He patted his pockets then looked up at Violet. "Uh…"

"You don't have the keys?" Violet asked.

"No."

Virgil stuck his head out the window. "My dad had them last I think, down in HQ."

"Okay, no problem. I'll go get them." Francis headed for the door.

* * *

"How many is that?" Bob ran a hand through his short blond hair tiredly.

"Four." Lucius muttered. He was slumped in his seat, a hand massaging his temple.

Helen had a notepad balanced on her lap and on it were notes about the previous four deaths they had watched. They had reached the end of the first disc. She put in the next one.

"That looks like a different version of the Omnidroid." Bob observed as the video flickered to life and showed an Omnidroid in the very same jungle that haunted his nightmares. "Looks like Syndrome made some upgrades."

"So, this is the Omnidroid 2.0?" Lucius asked.

Helen made a note of the date and the new Omnidroid, putting an X2 next to the notation.

The video showed a Super from behind, creeping stealthily through the jungle. It was a woman, wearing a red Supersuit. Lucius sat forward. "Oh no."

"That's not..." Bob started and then cut himself off because the woman turned to look over her shoulder and they all got a good look at her face. It was Blazestone. Helen's breath caught in her throat. It really was startling how much her son looked like her.

Blazestone scanned the jungle with a wary eye before returning to carefully picking her way through the trees. Another camera was trained on the Omnidroid X2, lying in wait in the next glen. Blazestone crept closer.

"Lucius, you don't have to watch this. If you want to leave…" Helen had noticed Lucius gripping the armrests of his chair so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

"No. I'm staying."

Bob reached over and laid a hand on his best friend's arm. Lucius relaxed his grip slightly.

* * *

Francis wandered down the sterile white hallway towards the communication center of the sanctum's headquarters. As he neared the doorway, he heard what sounded like a fight. Francis frowned in confusion and then nudged the door open a crack to see what was going on.

On the main screen, Blazestone was locked in battle with Omnidroid. Both of her hands were filled with flames and she was flinging blast after blast at the robot to no avail. It was clear Blazestone was losing.

Francis' eyes widened.

The Omnidroid shot a laser beam from its rotating head and it caught Blazestone in her upper right shoulder and spun her around like a top. She fell to the jungle floor, her good hand reaching up to grasp the wound. Blood flowed freely down her arm.

Bob was entranced. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. It was like watching a car accident. He wanted to reach through the screen and pull Blazestone to safety, but he knew he couldn't. He was helpless, and so was Blazestone.

Blazestone struggled to her feet and screamed in fury. She thrust her good hand forward and an enormous eruption of flame flew from her hands. It punched a hole through one of the Omnidroid's spider-like legs.

"Must be made of a different metal than the final version." Bob muttered.

Blazestone used the moment to fly into the air, fire propelling her escape. It took the Omnidroid a few more seconds to recover from the blast before it folded its legs inside of itself and rolled after Blazestone in pursuit.

Blazestone's injuries were taking their toll. Her flight was clumsy and she was losing altitude. She wouldn't be able to put enough distance between the deadly robot and herself. The hidden cameras tracked Blazestone as she struggled to maintain flight and the succumbed to blood loss and fell into the canopy.

She bounced off a few tree limbs before landing hard onto the ground. Blazestone grimaced and sat up, clutching her wound. Even in such a dire situation, it was easy to see the determination and fury in her eyes behind her black mask.

The Omnidroid rolled into the clearing and sprung back to its feet. Both side guns and its head swiveled to face the downed Super.

Blazestone managed to get to her feet and a blast from one of the side guns forced her to produce a fire shield with her one working hand. The next blast impacted with the shield and knocked Blazestone to her knees. The fire fizzled out.

The next shot hit Blazestone in the stomach and punched a hole through her the size of a fist. Her scream echoed around the room.

Blazestone fell backwards, blood bubbling at the corners of her mouth. She tried to apply pressure to the wound with her good hand. The Omnidroid stepped closer, its shadow falling over the Super.

Blazestone looked up, her bright green eyes startlingly clear, and said one word. "Francis."

The Omnidroid fired one last time.

The screen faded to black.

Helen put the pencil down and cradled her head in her hands, trying to fight down the nausea that had risen in her throat.

Lucius closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, thoroughly exhausted and numbed by the video.

Bob struggled to keep his clenched fists in his lap and not put one of them through the nearest wall.

The sound of running feet shocked all of the adults out of their stupors.

"What was that?" Lucius asked in bewilderment.

Bob looked over to the door, it had been opened. Footsteps echoed down the hallway and then faded as the runner got further away.

"Oh no." Helen sucked in a breath. "Francis."

* * *

Violet tapped her foot impatiently before huffing in irritation. "Where is he? We're going to be late."

Virgil was leaning against the side of the van, arms crossed lightly over his chest. "He should've been back by now." He agreed.

Violet stomped towards the door. "He better not have stopped to get a snack or something."

Violet entered the house and walked towards the secret entrance to the underground HQ. She was nearly bowled over by her mother and father hurrying out of the elevator.

"What?" Violet stepped back to avoid being trampled.

"Did you see which way Francis went?"

"Why are you guys not at the mall?"

Violet's eyes widened. "Um. I have no idea. Francis went to get the keys to the van…"

"He probably went to his room." Helen walked quickly in that direction.

Lucius came out of the elevator. "Did you find him?" He noticed Violet. "Why are you here?"

"Fro, do me a favor and drive the kids to the mall." Bob steered both Lucius and Violet towards the garage.

"Can do." Lucius nodded. Bob wanted the kids out of the house. The least he could do was play chauffeur. "C'mon Vi, let's go." Lucius took her by the arm and gently led her away.

"Wait, what's going? What happened?" Violet asked.

* * *

"Francis?" Helen knocked on his bedroom door. She was suddenly very grateful Bob had thought not to put a lock on it. Helen nudged the door open. "Francis?"

Francis was sitting at his desk. He looked perfectly calm save for his furiously tapping foot. He was pulling at his hair with one hand and gripping the edge of the desk with his other.

"Francis?" Helen asked again, stepping into the room.

"Why were you watching that?" Francis asked suddenly, not lifting his head. His voice sounded rougher than usual.

"It's a little complicated." Helen closed the door behind her went to sit at the foot of Francis' bed. "Dicker called, one of his teams found these video files in one of Syndrome's offices. He wanted us to analyze them because of our first-hand knowledge. We agreed."

Helen stared at Francis' back. "How much did you see?"

"All of it."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." Francis muttered quietly.

"Still, I wish you hadn't seen it."

"I'm glad I did."

Helen started. "Why?"

Francis' shoulders slumped. Helen wanted to go over and hug him, tell him everything was going to be okay, but she didn't think he would want that. Not yet.

"I have dreams about her, a lot actually. Usually just the same one over and over. The night she left. The weird thing is, I can remember her voice exactly like it was but I can't really see her. She's all blurry or the light is too bright or something else. I forgot what she looked like." Francis turned in the chair to look at Helen. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears; his bright green eyes that were so very much like his mother's. Helen could see the effort Francis was putting in to keep those tears back. "Lucius was right, I look a lot like her."

Helen was silent, mostly because she had no idea what to say.

Francis looked down at the floor and kicked his foot back and forth, swallowing down a lump in his throat.

"She said my name."

He looked up at Helen, and one of the tears broke through and slid down his cheek. "She said my name."

Helen couldn't hold herself back anymore; she rushed to Francis and pulled him into her arms. He didn't resist, like he normally would. Francis leaned into the embrace and Helen felt his body shake with quiet sobs, felt his hot tears soak her sleeve. She didn't say anything. After all, what do you say to someone who had just watched their mother die?

* * *

"I told you we were going to be late." Violet said, scanning the food court for Tony. The tall boy was nowhere in sight. "He probably already left."

"We're only fifteen minutes late." Virgil tried to assure her. "Maybe he was running late too."

Violet sipped disappointedly at her Coke. "Maybe."

After another twenty minutes it was pretty clear Tony had either forgotten the meeting or had left when Violet was late.

Virgil checked his watch. "I've got to meet Rich at the comics store in five. You want to come?"

Violet got to her feet. "I guess."

"Aw c'mon." Virgil slung an arm around her shoulders. "So you guys will meet up next weekend. It's not the end of the world."

Violet offered Virgil a weak smile. "I guess."

Richie was waiting outside the comic's store. When he saw Virgil and Violet approaching he waved to get their attention through the crowd. "Hey guys!"

"Hey Rich!" Virgil and Richie exchanged high-fives.

"Hi." Violet nodded in greeting. "How was the drive?"

Richie shrugged. "Not too bad, it's a good thing my dad needed to get something from a specialty store here or he never would have agreed to drive me all this way to meet you guys."

"Have you checked out the selection yet?" Virgil jerked his thumb towards the store.

"I was waiting for my guide." Richie grinned.

Violet rolled her eyes but smiled. "You guys are such dorks."

* * *

"Hey Vi, what's with the face?" Richie asked, looking at Violet over a stack of comics he was leafing through. Violet was twirling a strand of her jet-black hair around her finger.

"What face?"

Richie mimicked her pout. "What gave you a case of the frownies?"

Violet's lips quirked into a smile. "I was supposed to meet a…friend…but he didn't show. Or I was late. I'm not sure which."

"Oh, sorry." Richie offered his condolences. Violet went back to trying to pretend to be interested in the array of comics in front of her.

"Hey, I got an idea." Richie snapped his fingers. He put the comics down and walked around the display to Violet. He offered her his hand. "There is no problem on this earth that cannot be made better with ice cream."

Violet looked at Richie's hand and then at his smiling face. She took his hand. "Why not?"

* * *

When Lucius and the kids got back from the mall that night, the house was very quiet. Bob was sitting in the living room, bouncing Jack-Jack on his lap watching TV with the volume turned low.

Violet waited a few minutes before succumbing to curiosity. "What happened with Francis?"

Bob and Lucius explained looks. "I don't think we can get away with not explaining." Lucius said.

Bob nodded. "Take a seat you guys."

The kids spread out on the furniture around the room. Virgil and Violet could read by the expressions on their fathers' faces that something serious had happened. Dash switched his confused look between the two adults. "Is Francis sick again?" The little blond speedster asked.

"No." Bob shook his head. "It's something else."

They did their best to explain about the videos and why the NSA wanted their analysis.

"He saw his mom die?" Virgil asked in a quiet voice.

"We thought you kids had left. We didn't know he was there." Lucius explained.

"Wow." Dash sat back in his chair. "Is he okay?"

Bob shrugged. "I don't really know. He's been in his room with Helen since then. I'd suggest we give Francis some space. He's going to need some time to process this."

All of the kids nodded in agreement. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence Lucius stood up. "I'll order pizza for dinner." He left, grateful to have something to do.

Jack-Jack started to fuss so Bob left the room to put him down for a nap.

Violet frowned at the floor. "I hope he doesn't do something stupid."

Virgil looked at her in confusion. "What?"

"Francis." She looked at Virgil. "We all know he's not the greatest at emotion. I just hope he lets us help him and doesn't do something stupid. He's come a long way."

Virgil nodded, thinking back to the old F-Stop had had known. In under a year, that gang banger had gone from terrorizing kids to protecting them, from flunking most of his classes to acing them, from being an emotionally distant, troubled kid to a teenager with a caring family and loving girlfriend. It would be a shame to see all that work and progress undone because of a video.

"Don't worry." Dash said confidently. "He'll be okay. He always is."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Why did you guys not call me on this? So, I had this whole baseball tryout scene written out as I was writing this chapter and then it got misplaced and not added in to the final product but I didn't realize it. So now, when I was writing the newest chapter and wanted to reference the baseball team, I went looking for the chapter where I had it, but couldn't find it. Ugh, and in chapter 24 I mention Francis making the team but nobody noticed that there was no lead up to that? Are people even reading this? I feel really stupid. Anyhoo, consider it a deleted scene and this is the director's cut. Hopefully things make more sense now. I can't believe I did that.

Review as usual I suppose.


	24. Chapter 24: Bottled Up

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Bottled Up**

The next morning Helen tentatively went to Francis' room and knocked softly. There was no answer. She pushed the door open, expecting to find the teenager sleeping soundly in his bed. The room was empty. The bed was untouched. Helen's brow furrowed worriedly. That meant Francis had either not slept at all, or had already made his bed. Which seemed extremely unlikely. In all of his time at the Sanctum, Francis may have made his bed three times, and only when directly ordered to do so.

Helen shut the door and checked the living room and kitchen. No Francis. Dash was sitting on the carpet watching Saturday morning cartoons. He looked up as his mother entered the room. "Hi mom."

"Morning sweetie." Helen sat on the chair. "Have you seen Francis this morning?"

Dash shook his head. "Nope."

On Saturday morning Dash was always the first one up. The cartoons started at seven in the morning and Dash never missed them.

Helen kept the worry off her face until Dash had returned his attention to the television screen. So where was Francis?

* * *

The heavy metal weights went up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Francis kept pumping the weight bar, conscious only of the repetitive motion. His mind was clear. There was only up and down, up and down. Eventually his arms started to ache and then tremble. Since he was lifting without a spotter, it would have been smart to quit then, but Francis kept going. He didn't really want to let his mind think past up and down.

He wasn't even sure how long he had been at it. A couple of hours certainly. He'd started by swimming laps in the pool. It was freezing. The cold of the water had kept his mind off of…other things. When Francis found his mind drifting after several laps, he toweled off and headed to the weight room.

Francis gritted his teeth and struggled to lift the bar off his chest, his muscles protested the movement.

That's how Bob found him, gasping for air and trying to lift nearly 250 pounds off of himself. Bob hurried over and lifted the weights one-handed back onto the rests. Francis sat up and grabbed for a towel he'd slung over the weight bench, quickly mopping his brow. "Thanks."

"What're you doing down here?" Bob asked, taking in the quivering muscles in Francis' arms and trying to calculate how long the pyro had been pumping iron alone.

"Nothing. Working out." Francis replied curtly.

Bob rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah. Obviously. Kind of early isn't it? I think Helen's looking for you."

Francis stared at the tiled floor and then pushed himself off the bench before heading out the door. Bob frowned. Francis didn't usually just flat out ignore him. He followed the teen.

Francis went to the basketball court, or rather the running track surrounding the basketball court. He took the time to stretch a bit before setting off around the track at a blistering pace.

Bob watched Francis complete one lap, then another without breaking stride, a determined look on his face. Bob shook his head softly and then left the room.

* * *

A few days went by, then a week, and before the kids were ready for it, spring break was over and they were back to school.

Francis had remained distant since seeing his mother's death, pushing himself physically to keep himself from thinking about it. Everybody in the Sanctum had noticed and were torn on how to react. Bob seemed to think it was best to let Francis be. Helen wanted to intervene, to at least get Francis talking about it. Keeping those kind of emotions bottled up like that never led to anything good.

It wasn't only the Parrs and the Bests Francis had suddenly decided to keep at an arm's length. Despite numerous phone calls and texts asking to meet up over the vacation, Frieda had been ignored by her boyfriend. By the time Francis pulled into the school parking lot, Frieda was fuming.

"Francis." Frieda stomped over to where Francis was stowing his and Violet's helmets. He turned to face her, his face emotionless.

"What?"

Frieda took his arm. "Can we talk? In private?"

They had a few minutes before the bell was going to ring. Frieda led Francis behind the gym before unleashing her fury. "What happened to you? I've been calling you for days! You didn't return a single message. Did something happen?"

When Francis didn't reply Frieda crossed her arms and began tapping her foot impatiently. "I'm going to need an answer here Francis. What's the matter with you?"

Something flashed in Francis' eyes. "Nothing. Nothing is the matter with me. I just didn't call you back. What's the big deal?"

"We had plans over spring break, remember? Then all of the sudden you freeze me out for no apparent reason? That's just rude." Frieda waited for a reaction and when she didn't get one she let out a deep, disappointed breath. "I thought you would at least apologize. I was worried."

"Yeah, well you shouldn't be." Francis muttered, shouldering his backpack strap.

Frieda's eyes widened a bit and then she shook her head. "Whatever's going on with you, let me know when you're done being a jerk. We can talk then." She turned on her heel and walked away, just as the bell rang out.

Francis kicked at the ground and frowned. "Shit."

* * *

By the time the final bell rang, things had gotten no better. Francis had had one of the worst days of his life. With Frieda not speaking to him, Francis hadn't realized how lonely his days were. Violet and Richie tried to talk to him every now and again but he wasn't in the mood for their chirpiness. To top it off, Francis hadn't been paying attention in biology and now he had no idea what the homework was even on. The directions might as well have been written in Greek.

Francis slammed his locker shut. And now he had baseball practice. Maybe he could work off some of this aggression there.

Suddenly, Francis was shoved hard from behind. He braced himself against his locker with his hands and then turned, a growl escaping his throat.

Wade was walking past, a gloating smirk on his face. Francis threw his backpack down. Or maybe he could work off that aggression right now.

Wade, noting Francis' anger, only smirked wider and turned to face the other boy. "What's the matter Francis? Didn't hurt ya did I?"

"No." Francis clenched his fists.

"I can fix that." Wade dropped his grin and swung a fist at Francis. He ducked the punch and then tackled Wade to the floor with a snarl. Francis landed several good punches before Wade managed to flip them and then Francis had to bring his arms up to deflect some blows.

Francis wasn't aware of the growing crowd of kids surrounding the rolling, punching, pair or of the teachers struggling to break through the throng. Not until he was yanked to his feet by the music teacher. He tried to lunge at Wade again but Principal Duncan grabbed Francis around the middle and lurched him away from the bigger boy. Several teachers were holding Wade as well, the teen was heaving with angry breaths and blood was dripping from his nose. Francis continued to glare murderously at Wade even as he was pulled away.

"My office. Now!" Duncan ordered loudly.

* * *

Francis sat sullenly in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs waiting for Duncan to finish reaming out Wade. His head throbbed painfully and he rubbed at a decent-sized knot beginning to bloom at the back of his head. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the floor.

The door opened and Wade emerged, holding an official looking piece of paper in his hands. He mumbled something under his breath and crumpled the paper before stalking past Francis and disappearing into the hallway.

Duncan stepped into the doorway and motioned Francis in.

As Francis sank into the slightly more comfortable plastic chair in Duncan's office, he continued to glower at everything. Duncan put Wade's file away and pulled out Francis'. "Want to explain to me what happened out there?"

Francis shook his head.

Duncan studied the teenager for a moment and then sighed, flipping open the file before him. "I have to say, I'm disappointed. You've been doing so well. It's been months since you and Wade had an altercation." Francis sank a little lower in his seat.

"I've suspended Wade." Duncan continued. "Several students tell me he initiated the fight. However, unlike last time, you responded physically. This school has a zero-tolerance policy regarding fighting. I'm afraid I'm going to have to suspend you as well."

Francis was about to scoff and say something along the lines of he didn't care, but then he remembered baseball. If he was suspended he couldn't play. And he'd busted his ass to get on that team. And Frieda would only be more disappointed, and Francis hated that look of disappointment on her face.

"Wait, please don't suspend me." Francis sat forward.

Duncan looked up. "Why not? You're going to have to talk to me Francis. I need some answers here." Francis was reminded of that morning, about how he blew off Frieda when she had demanded the same thing.

"Wade started it, yeah. But I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I'm really sorry about that."

Duncan studied Francis again and he calmly closed the file again. "Francis, is there something you want to talk about? Maybe something at home? I've been watching you since you got here, and up until today you've always shown great restraint when dealing with Wade or any of the other bangers. What was so different about today?"

Duncan, Francis thought, was a pretty good principal. He read him like an open book, something no one at the Sanctum had been able to do.

"Uh…kind of. I…I don't really know how to explain it though." Francis stammered. How could he possibly explain anything about his mom without blowing his cover?

Duncan sat back. "Take your time."

Francis took a deep breath. "It's, okay, it's got to do with my mom."

One of Duncan's eyebrows rose. "I thought you were a foster child, in the care of the Parr family. What, exactly, about your mom happened?"

"She died, a long time ago. When I was a little kid." Francis paused. "I didn't know how she died, until a few days ago." He looked up and Duncan stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. "I saw a video."

The eyebrow jumped a few more inches. "You saw a video of your mother dying?"

Francis nodded.

"Well, I can see how that might lead to some complicated feelings." Duncan sat forward. "And possibly getting into a fight in response to those feelings. Tell you what, I'm not going to suspend you."

Francis looked up. "You're not?"

"No. You are going to serve lunch-time detentions for a month and I also want you to speak with the school psychologist."

Francis scowled at that.

Duncan chuckled lightly. "I know, not something you would ever willingly do. But trust me, sometimes talking things out will make it easier to deal with whatever's going on in your life. I think it would be a good idea."

Reluctantly, Francis nodded. "Okay."

Duncan looked at his watch. "Now, I think you're going to be late for practice. You'd better hurry up and get out there."

Francis grinned, for the first time in days. "Thank you."

Duncan returned the smile. "No problem."

* * *

"So, I got an interesting call from your school today." Helen began nonchalantly. She and Francis were in the laundry room, sorting clothes into different baskets. With so many people living under one roof, laundry was a group chore.

Francis looked up from one of Virgil's shirts and tried to gauge Helen's mood, was he in big trouble or was she gearing up for a sentimental heart-to-heart? Helen was busy trying to look fascinated with folding Jack-Jack's onesie. Francis ducked his head and smothered the urge to roll his eyes. Heart-to-heart.

"Yeah?"

"Yes, something about a fight." Helen looked at Francis out of the corner of her eye. "Are you okay?"

"M'fine. Didn't get a good hit in." Francis straightened and set aside the full basket before searching for another.

"Good, although that's not really what I meant."

Francis sighed. "I know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Again with the talking. Everybody wanted to talk to him. "Not really no."

Helen nodded. "Okay, fine. But Francis? I don't like that you're shutting yourself off like this. I thought we'd come so far. Please don't retreat. We care about you and we want to make sure you're okay. If you don't want to talk to me, anybody here would be willing to lend an ear."

"Helen?" Francis turned to face her. "I appreciate it. I do. But I really don't want to talk about it. I saw my mom die. It messed me up. I'm not going to pretend it didn't. But the longer I think about it the angrier I get. Just give me a few more days and I'll be fine. Or, maybe not fine, but better. I think I'm allowed to be mad for a while."

"Yes. You are." Helen agreed. "Just don't do something with that anger that you'll regret."

Francis looked away. "I think I already did."

"What happened?"

"It wasn't just Wade, although that felt good. I really wanted to hit someone." Francis' hands hovered over a pair of his own jeans. "I got in a fight with Frieda."

"Your first fight?" Helen winced sympathetically. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Grovel for forgiveness." The corner of Francis' mouth quirked up. "I've got to apologize at least. I was kind of a jerk."

Helen smiled softly. "Sounds like a good idea to me. Frieda's a sweet girl."

"Yeah." The smile stayed on Francis' face and the pair went back to the task at hand. After a few beats of silence, Francis continued talking. "Principal Duncan gave me detention and I've got to talk to the school shrink. I sort of mentioned my mom."

Helen paused. "What did you say, exactly?"

"Nothing about how she died or anything like that. Just that I saw a video. He was cool about it. He could've suspended me." Francis said.

"I'm glad he let you explain. He's probably going to call to check up." Helen frowned thoughtfully. "We'd better get a cover story in place."

Another few minutes of comfortable silence. Helen put her basket aside and then reached out to ruffle Francis' hair. "So how was your first day of practice?"

* * *

"Frieda! Hey Frieda wait up!"

Frieda turned to look over her shoulder and saw Francis working his way through the crowd of students in the hallway. They were all surging for the doors, eager to get to their cars or buses and go home. Francis was trying to fight the swarm and get to where Frieda and a group of her friends were standing outside the newspaper room. She had an afterschool assignment to cover the first track meet of the season. One of the school's cameras was on a strap around her neck and she fiddled with the lens cap, trying to decide if she wanted to stand there and wait for Francis to catch up or just ignore him and walk away.

Frieda hadn't seen Francis all day, and coupled with ignoring him yesterday, she was starting to lose her resolve to keep up the ice treatment. Yes, Francis had been rude and mean to her. But she missed talking with him at their lockers in between classes, passing notes in Spanish, and eating lunch in the quad together. As Francis neared, his sports bag dangling from one hand, Frieda waved her friends away. They went back into the classroom, all discussing their assignments.

In the few minutes since the bell had rang, the halls had cleared and now there were only a few stragglers and Frieda and Francis standing in the corridor.

He came to a stop before her. Frieda had never seen Francis nervous before. He was clenching and unclenching the strap to his sports duffel with one hand. "Hi."

"Hi." She continued fiddling with the lens cap.

Francis ran a hand over the back of his neck. "I'm not really good at apologies. But I am really, really sorry I was such an asshole the other day. I was going through something but I had no right to take it out on you. I should have returned your calls, or at least let you know I wasn't up to hanging out. And I'm sorry I made you worry. And I want you to have this." Francis dug into the duffel and came up with the sweatshirt he'd been given as a member of the varsity baseball team. "It's clean. Don't worry. But I want you to know that you're important to me and I don't want to fight with you anymore."

Frieda took the sweatshirt silently with both hands and then looked up at Francis, beaming the widest smile he'd ever seen on her face. "That was pretty good, for someone who doesn't like apologies. Perfect, actually."

She wrapped her arms around Francis. "Are you okay now?" Frieda mumbled into the crook of his neck.

"Getting there."

"You're important to me too, and I hope you feel better soon."

And because Frieda was the only person who didn't immediately want Francis to open up and talk about his feelings but was just there making him feel better with her mere presence, Francis felt an overwhelming wave of adoration wash over him and Francis tilted his head to capture Frieda's lips with his own.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Mmm, not much to say about this chapter. I hope it didn't come across as too sappy.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	25. Chapter 25: Making it Permanent

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Making it Permanent**

Slowly, inevitably, things returned to normal.

There was no question that Frieda was more responsible for the return to equilibrium than any therapy session. She and Francis were spending more and more time together. She would often stay behind after school to watch Francis at practice and then he would treat her to ice cream or just a slow walk hand-in-hand around the warming city of Dakota. They'd accomplished all the small little milestones a relationship heading into its fifth month should have. He'd met her parents, had had a stern talking to from her dad. She'd been invited over to the Sanctum for a nice dinner. It had taken two days to hide all superhero paraphernalia and arrange for Jack-Jack to be watched by an NSA sitter.

Francis was looking forward to having all summer to spend time with Frieda. Last year, the thought of being in such a committed, long-term relationship would have scared him silly. Now, the very idea of being away from Frieda for more than a few days at a time scared him. She was his new normal.

The days were growing longer and the students at Dakota High School were all coming down with a serious case of spring fever. But for Francis his days were as jam-packed as ever. Splitting his time between baseball, school, training, and Frieda was tricky, but he found that he liked the challenge. He liked waking up with a little burn in his muscles from all the exercise, liked having Frieda help him through his class work. Things finally seemed to be settling right.

And then Wade came back from his suspension and decided that baiting Francis would be his new pastime. Francis' shoulders were black and blue from being knocked into lockers. Wade would throw insults at anyone he could think of. Frieda, Violet, and Richie were all fair game. And every time Francis felt like he was about to combust from pure rage one of them was there to put a hand on his arm and walk him away to talk him down. If this was what actual, caring friendships were like, Francis decided he could get used to it.

"Hey, I was thinking about this girl." Virgil flopped onto the couch beside Francis. The pyro had his feet propped on the coffee table and was slouched so low he almost disappeared into the cushions. One red eyebrow arched as an indication that Francis was listening.

Virgil also took it as a sign to continue. "I was thinking I could ask her out, but I wasn't sure…"

"If she would say yes? So what? If she says no just ask her again till she gives in. Worked for me."

"I'm not sure that's a sound strategy for everybody." Virgil grabbed one of the pillows and hugged it to his chest.

Francis glanced at Virgil out of the corner of his eye. "Stop being such a girl about it and just go do it."

"Gee, thanks." Virgil pouted. "That's helpful."

Francis' mouth quirked into a grin. "Daisy right?"

"Wha…? Yeah. How'd you know that?"

"Cause you haven't shut up about her in weeks. You're so in love with her it's disgusting."

Virgil snorted. "Says the guy who licked ice cream off his girlfriend's cheek today at lunch."

Francis' head jerked up and he slapped the magazine shut. "I told Violet not to tell!"

"Actually, it was Richie."

"Remind me to steal his glasses and hide them in one of those jars filled with goop in the chem room or something." Francis grumped.

"C'mon dude, can we please be serious about this for a second?"

Francis sat up and turned to Virgil. "Just call me Serious George."

Virgil whacked Francis in the face with the pillow. "Actual real advice would be nice now."

"Okay, you've been going to school with this chick for a couple of months now. You've hung out, a lot. You talk about her all the time. You like her. It's not hard. Ask her out. The next time you see her, don't wait or you'll wimp out."

Virgil's brow furrowed as he mulled the idea over. "I guess you're right."

"I know." Francis swung his feet back up on the table and reached for the remote.

"Hey guys, my mom says dinner will be ready in a few…" Violet walked into the room and stopped in the doorway. She folded her arms over her chest and offered them a Cheshire grin. "Whatcha guys doing? Having a heart to heart?"

"Yes." Virgil said just as Francis responded with a "No." They turned and glared at one another.

Francis looked back to Violet. "A manly one."

* * *

"One month left. Can you smell the freedom?" Richie sniffed at the air.

Violet giggled. "No, all I can smell is the burnt mac 'n cheese from the cafeteria."

Richie grinned crookedly at Violet. "You have no imagination."

"Hey guys!" Both Richie and Violet turned and saw Francis and Frieda walking up behind them. Francis had his sports bag slung over his shoulder and one arm around Frieda, who was waving as they approached.

"Practice over already?" Violet asked.

"Yeah, but we're pulling double practices all next week." Francis groaned.

"Well, that's what you get for having a winning team. A postseason." Richie quipped.

Francis playfully punched Richie's shoulder and the bespectacled boy made a show of being in pain. Violet and Frieda gave each other knowing looks. Boys.

"Isn't Virgil meeting us today?" Frieda asked.

Francis and Violet looked at each other. "I think he was, after he dealt with something." Francis answered.

"What something is that?" Frieda asked.

"Professing his love for his nerd soulmate." Violet supplied, a smirk on her face.

Richie grinned. "You say nerd like it's a bad thing."

"Term of endearment." Violet retorted with her own grin.

* * *

"Hi Daisy." Virgil hurried to catch up to the girl in the crowded hallways. Students were pushing and shoving to get out the doors and while that might be an average scenario in other high schools, the students at the Vanmoor Institute were anything but average. They were so laden down with textbooks, charts, and equipment that trying to navigate the corridors was an acquired skill. Virgil hadn't quite gotten the hang of it.

After being jabbed in the side with a telescope protruding out of someone's backpack, Virgil finally managed to make it to Daisy's side. She looked up from her locker and smiled at him. "Hi Virgil. How're things?"

"Good, good. Busy, y'know?" Virgil leaned against the locker next to Daisy's trying to appear at ease.

"Yeah, did you finish that analysis for Specs and Trapper yet? Their electro-magnetic component is throwing me for a loop."

Virgil grinned. "Actually yeah I did. Want me to help you with it?"

"Sure, that would be great!" Daisy finished packing up her books and shut her locker and turned to Virgil. "Want to come over this weekend? We can work on it then."

"Oh…uh…" Virgil faltered. "That's sounds great. And maybe after, we could go do something, like a movie? Or dinner?"

"Sounds like fun." Another dazzling smile. "I know this great pizza place just down the street from my house. They have the best breadsticks."

"Awesome, I'll call you."

Daisy nodded. "Okay then. See you later."

Virgil watched Daisy walk away and then fist-pumped in celebration.

* * *

"That's not a date." Francis said around the popsicle in his mouth. His hands were occupied with a game controller and his eyes remained glued to the TV as his character and Virgil's raced around the flaming aircraft carrier trying to avoid enemy soldiers.

Virgil jabbed at the "A" button and frowned. "Yeah it is. We're getting pizza and studying."

"That is not a date." Francis reiterated. An explosion filled the screen and Francis cackled with glee.

"Wha…yes it is!" Virgil cocked his head to one side. "Sniper behind you."

"Got 'im." Francis mumbled. "And no, it's not."

"I'm going to the jury on this one." Virgil spared a glance at the couch were Violet was stretched out, a magazine open in front of her. "Vi? Date or not?"

"I'm gonna side with Francis on this one." Violet answered.

"Ha!" Francis laughed.

Virgil paused the game.

"Hey." Francis frowned. "C'mon, I was about to pistol whip his ass."

"If it's not a date, what is it?" Virgil asked.

Francis took the popsicle out of his mouth and chomped on the last bit of flavored ice before turning the stick over to read the joke. He was clearly going to let Violet field this one.

"Because she asked you over to help her with homework and then you suggested food. It's not a date. It's hanging out. As friends." Violet said with a look on her face that suggested Virgil was being slow.

Virgil's brow furrowed. "But we've never hung out just the two of us before. Don't you think she thinks this is a date?"

"Did you even use the word date?" Francis butted in.

Virgil thought back to his earlier conversation with Daisy and the slapped a palm to his forehead. He fell forward and buried his face in the carpet. "Oh god, we're just hanging out. It's not a date."

Francis patted Virgil's back. "If you kiss her at the end of it, it's a date."

Violet snorted and returned to her magazine.

When Virgil didn't move Francis tapped him on the head with the controller. "Can we finish this now?"

Virgil groaned.

"Is that a no?"

* * *

"Hiya Pops." Virgil walked into his father's suite to find Lucius sitting on the couch in front of the television. A basketball game was on.

"Hey." Lucius patted the couch cushion next to him and Virgil dropped into the offered seat. "What's on your mind?"

"I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind giving me a ride to Dakota on Saturday. Me and Daisy are going to study."

Lucius winced. "Oh, uh, actually I was hoping you would stay here Saturday night."

Virgil quirked an eyebrow in question.

Lucius rubbed his chin. "I invited Trina over for dinner, and I wanted you to be there."

"Oh." Virgil sat back. "Do I have to?"

"Yes."

Virgil folded his arms over his chest and stared sullenly at the TV for a few seconds before continuing. "Look, you can date whoever you want to but I don't really want to be involved in it, okay? I want to hang out with Daisy and if you won't drive me then I'll just fly there, no big deal."

Lucius frowned and reached for the remote to turn the TV off before turning to Virgil. "Yes. Big deal. I thought you said you were okay with me dating?"

"I am."

"Doesn't sound like it."

Virgil got to his feet and headed for the door. "I'm okay with it so long as I don't have to see it." He opened the door, paused, and looked back at his father. He sighed heavily. "What if I was back by dinner?"

Lucius smiled. "That should work. Thank you Virgil."

Virgil nodded and then left, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

The one downside of playing baseball? It wasn't the long practices or the aching muscles. It was the fact that Wade knew where to find Francis every day. He'd walk out of the locker room, and there Wade would be, waiting with a smug smirk on his face and a pack of cronies flocking him. Francis would be heading to his bike in the parking lot, and there Wade would be, lounging in the driver's seat of his new truck with the music blaring and engine revving menacingly.

So far, nothing had come of it. But if Wade was playing mind games, then the physical part of the game couldn't be far behind. Francis knew how a guy like Wade operated. Not too long ago, he was just like him.

And it just goes to show Wade was not very adept at subtle when even the little freshmen pitcher Oliver Brown started commenting on Wade's stalkerish behavior after spotting the banger sitting in the bleachers watching them practice.

"Are you seriously not going to do anything?" Richie asked one day at lunch.

Francis looked up from his chips and noticed Wade glaring at him from across the cafeteria. He shrugged and went back to his food. "No."

"But he's being extra creepy, with a side of sinister." Richie argued, gesturing with his fork.

"But he hasn't done anything. And I'm not going to start anything either." Francis shot back. "Duncan would suspend me if I got into a fight again. Not to mention States are next week. I don't want to risk that." He looked at Wade again and then shook his head. "He doesn't scare me."

Frieda fiddled with her apple. "He scares me."

Francis looked at her. Frieda continued. "What he might do to you, that scares me. Promise you'll be careful?"

"Of course, I promise. Trust me babe, I know how to play this game. I know the rules. He can't beat me."

Frieda didn't look entirely convinced but she stopped poking the apple with her fingernail and actually began eating it, which was a start.

The only one who hadn't said anything was Violet and Francis looked to her for an opinion. She raised one slender black eyebrow as a response. It was probably a testament to how well Francis and Violet had gotten to know each other that he could read her expressions. She wanted him to be careful, but not necessarily about Wade. He could take Wade. No question. Violet wanted Francis to be careful about how much of his Super abilities he might reveal to Wade or Frieda or anybody else if a physical altercation did occur.

Francis gave a slight nod and Violet returned to her meal. Message received.

* * *

Bob walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom he shared with his wife. Helen was already in bed, a book propped open on her lap. Bob climbed into his side of the bed and turned off his bedside lamp. Then the only light in the room came from the soft glow of Helen's lamp.

Bob twisted and rolled until he was on his side facing Helen. He wrestled his pillow into the crook of his arm and settled down, closing his eyes…

"We need to talk."

"Uh oh."

Helen smiled and placed her bookmark before setting the book aside. "It's not bad."

"That's good." Bob hadn't opened his eyes and was speaking in a bleary voice, muffled by his pillow. "What about?"

"Francis."

Bob groaned.

Helen rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Most of our important discussions of late have been about Francis, but this is a big one."

Bob sat up then and smothered a yawn. "Okay, what's up?"

"I've been thinking, even since before the whole video mess, that we should consider making Francis' stay here permanent." Helen began.

"Sure, makes sense." Bob rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Where else is he going to go anyway? We can call Dicker and set something up."

"No, no Bob I don't think you're understanding." Helen continued. "I was thinking we should adopt Francis."

Bob slowly turned his head to face Helen. "What?"

"Think about it, he's basically part of the family now. He'll turn eighteen next fall, and then what? He's not our problem anymore? He goes back to the NSA? He gets relocated? If we adopted him we could help put him through college, give him a family, a home base. He's been shuffled around so much I think it would be really important to give him something solid, something permanent."

"Put him through college?" Bob seemed dazed. "We don't have enough saved up to get Violet through college. How…Helen, this is big."

Helen gave him a look that said he was being an idiot. "I know. Hence the discussion we're having right now." They were silent for a few minutes as Helen let Bob absorb the idea. "Nothing has to be decided tonight. I just thought I'd bring it up. And we still have to talk to Francis. I can guess at what he wants and needs but we actually need to know before we can move forward with anything."

Bob nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

Helen tried to read Bob's face, to gauge how he was feeling. Bob felt her stare and slung an arm around his wife, pulling her to his side. "It makes sense. And the kid fits in pretty good around here. I wouldn't mind having him stick around."

Helen beamed excitedly and then leaned up to kiss Bob. "That's my husband."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So it's been forever since I updated. Sorry about that. We're heading into the home stretch though. Only five more chapters to go. Things are going to start picking up.

Also, I'm not sure if no one noticed or if you just decided to go with it but I added a scene I had written into the beginning of chapter 23 explaining baseball tryouts and all that. For some reason it got lost in the shuffle when I was uploading the chapter so if you were paying attention, you might have been confused by the whole baseball plot coming out of nowhere like that. Sorry. My bad.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	26. Chapter 26: Those Golden Days

Disclaimer: I don't own The Incredibles or Static Shock

**Chapter Twenty-Six: Those Golden Days**

The week before the states championship game Dakota was inundated with one torrential downpour after another. The Dakota High baseball diamond turned to brown mush and was deemed impossible to play on, despite the groundskeeper's best efforts.

Normally, Francis and the rest of the team wouldn't have minded a couple of days off, but it _was_ the week before the biggest game of their season and the rain was doing nothing to help their chances.

"Do you think this will keep up? Coach will probably schedule weekend practices if it does." The co-captain Scott Henderson asked in a bored tone. He and Francis were standing in the doorway to the high school's field house watching raindrops spatter off the sidewalk.

Francis shrugged. From behind them, the sounds of baseballs pinging off of bats and tennis shoes squeaking on the floor echoed out the door. "I hope not." Francis scowled up at the dark, gray sky. "I hate the rain."

Henderson snickered softly. "It doesn't seem to like us too much either."

* * *

"Ok, that's it." Francis threw his backpack onto the couch. "I refuse to keep driving my bike in the rain." The pyro was drenched, little wisps of steam floated off his body as he passed the living room.

Bob snickered from behind his newspaper. "Don't worry kid. Forecast calls for sunny skies starting tomorrow."

Francis glowered. "It better be."

"Shouldn't you be studying for finals?" Helen popped out of the kitchen.

"One thing at a time!" Francis snapped and continued stalking to his room. Bob and Helen exchanged amused smiles.

* * *

"You are annoyingly smart." Violet pouted, watching as Virgil raced through his homework. He grinned at her before slamming his textbook shut.

"Done."

"Jerk." Violet gave her algebra assignment a glare. "I really don't think its fair of the teachers to give us so much homework the week before finals. How are we supposed to divide our time?"

"Are you complaining to me about course load?" Virgil butted in. "The teachers at Vanmoor border on the psychotic. I've got eight classes with final exams, three projects, two papers, and that stupid super-secret project my demonic senior supervisors have got us working on. I'm lucky to still be sane."

Violet gave her algebra a new appraising look. "Well, when you put it that way." She looked back to Virgil and grinned sweetly. "You did ask to transfer there."

"I know, I know." Virgil waved her statement aside. "And the course work may be killer, but it will all pay off this summer when I'm sitting in sunny Miami."

"What! No way! You got the internship?" Violet nearly knocked her books off the table in her excitement.

Virgil laughed and pulled a crumpled envelope from his pocket. He'd already read it so many times since this morning the paper was beginning to wear thin. Violet grabbed at it and pulled the letter out.

It was from the Alva Oceanic Laboratory in Miami. Every summer, the lab selects a handful of the Vanmoor Institute's top performing students for a marine biology internship. Virgil had applied a few months ago with little hope of being chosen, having transferred in halfway through the year. But that was his name on the envelope.

"This is amazing. Congratulations Virg!" Violet ran around the table and hugged Virgil. "I'm really happy for you."

"You haven't even heard the best part yet." Virgil took the letter back.

"What?"

"Daisy got in too."

Violet squealed happily.

"Right, so we'll be spending a lot of time together." Virgil continued. "We'll be out on the water a lot, and on the beach. I'm thinking that's when I can make my move."

Violet sighed dreamily. "Summer lovin'…"

"…had me a blast." Francis walked into the kitchen and stopped short at Virgil and Violet's stares. "What?"

"Did you just finish the lyrics to a _Grease_ song?"

"No." Francis frowned.

"But you just…" Violet trailed off.

Francis smirked. "Prove it." He went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "What're you guys doing?"

"Studying, or at least trying to." Virgil motioned at the textbooks and papers spread across the kitchen table.

"And celebrating!" Violet exclaimed. "Virgil got that Alva internship."

"Really?" Francis flashed Virgil a grin. "Congrats dude."

Virgil returned the grin. "Thanks. But don't tell anyone else yet. I haven't even told my dad. I'm pretty sure he should know before I jet off in a few weeks."

"Or…or." Francis cut in. "We could not tell him and make it a surprise."

"Surprise Pops! I'm in Florida and I'll be back in a month. Peace." Virgil laughed. "I don't think that would go over too well."

* * *

"Well this sucks." Francis pulled his helmet off with a deep sigh.

As promised, the day had dawned sunny and was already pleasantly warm even at seven in the morning. Francis and Violet set off to Dakota on their motorcycle, and for the first half hour enjoyed the sunshine and empty highways. And then as they approached the Dakota off ramp, they hit traffic.

And not just your average, every day, commuter traffic. This was five-car pile-up, state trooper level traffic. The minutes were ticking by and Francis and Violet were still twenty minutes away from school, and the first bell would be ringing in ten.

Violet pulled off her helmet and shook her long black hair. "We are not going anywhere, anytime soon."

"You think we can get an excused late pass for this?" Francis asked and crossed his arms over his chest as he surveyed the long lineup of cars in front of him. He'd long since turned off the engine.

Violet got off the bike to stretch. A man in a red convertible next to them was watching sports highlights on his phone. "I hope so."

Francis leaned forward over the handlebars and groaned. "This is so stupid. The off ramp is right there, if we can just get past these couple of cars we'll be home free." Francis suddenly sat up and whipped around to face Violet. "I have an idea."

"Yeah?" Violet asked hesitantly.

"You're not gonna like it. It might be a teensy bit illegal."

"Will it get us to school on time?"

"Possibly."

Violet considered for a moment before climbing back onto the bike and pulling her helmet on. "I'm game."

"Sweet." Francis smirked and put his own helmet on before kick starting the bike to life. "Hold on."

Violet's arms went around Francis' waist and they took off. Francis guided the bike between the cars, weaving in and out to a chorus of blaring horns. One of the state troopers noticed the bike but since they were also blocked in by the traffic, they couldn't pursue the duo.

Francis grinned wickedly behind his helmet's visor and revved the motorcycle. As they neared the off ramp, Francis gunned the engine and they flew out from between the cars and into the open road.

"Yes!" Francis crowed.

"Let's not do that again." Violet shouted from behind him.

Francis laughed. "No promises!"

* * *

With much worrying, caffeine, and late night studying, finals week arrived at Dakota High School. The library saw more foot traffic in those five days than the rest of the year combined. Some classes only required a paper, others handed out multiple choice scantron tests, and still others had the dreaded oral exam.

Spanish, for instance, required all students to give an oral presentation to the class, in Spanish with accompanying visual aids. Luckily, Francis was teamed with Frieda. Their topic was traditional festivals in Spain. In their free period, they snuck to the library to put the finishing touches on their project.

"What if I forget what I'm supposed to say?" Francis asked, as he cut out a picture of Pamplona to add to the poster.

"You won't." Frieda promised. She was grabbed a Sharpie and added a few more facts to poster in Spanish. "There, that looks good."

"What if I forget how to conjugate something? We're supposed to be using five different tenses. And I still get imperfect and preterit mixed up."

Frieda grabbed Francis' hand and smiled reassuringly. "You'll do fine. And if you don't, I'll take over."

Francis smiled. "You should just do the whole thing. Then I know we'd get an A."

"But that wouldn't be good teamwork." Frieda teased with a grin. The bell rang and the two gathered up their supplies. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

* * *

"What the hell?"

"What?" Frieda walked up behind Francis and slipped under his arm. "What's the matter?"

Francis pointed wordlessly at the bulletin board outside the main office. There was a bit of a crowd as students gathered around to see who had made the honor roll for each grade. The top ten students from each grade were listed. The list was always posted on the last day of school.

Francis had been passing by to get to his locker, he needed the grab his baseball cap before the big game tonight, when Richie had grabbed him and propelled the pyro to the front of the crowd.

There, near the bottom of the list for the junior class, was his name. Francis Stone. On the honor roll.

Francis looked around in confusion, expecting someone to start laughing and say 'Gotcha!' But all he saw was Richie's grinning face.

"What the hell?" Francis repeated in the same dumbfounded tone.

"Oh my god! Babe, that's fantastic!" Frieda squealed and hugged Francis tightly.

"You're on here too Frieda." Richie pointed out. Frieda's name was near the top of the list. The bespectacled boy's grin grew wider. "I guess we know who Dakota High's power couple is."

Francis was still staring in shock at the list. "Wait, but, how's that even possible?"

Frieda softly punched him in the side. "You've been working your butt off all year. This is the payoff." She stood on tiptoe to reach his face and kissed Francis on the cheek. "You deserve it."

Finally, Francis snapped out of his stupor and he hugged Frieda back. "You know, back in Metroville I used to beat up the honor roll kids."

"Then the evolution is complete!" Richie announced dramatically. Francis snickered and draped an arm around both Frieda and Richie before walking away from the crowd and out into the sunshine.

* * *

The entire Parr family had made the trip to Dakota for the State Championship game. They sat alongside Lucius, Virgil, Daisy, Richie, and Frieda in the stands. Dash had found one of Francis' baseball shirts and had painted his cheeks in the school colors to support Francis.

But, several innings into the game, they had had very little reason to cheer. Dakota was being beaten badly by the Empire City High Lions. In the top of the sixth, it was 5-1 in the Lions' favor.

This was in large part due to the Lions' star pitcher, Leo Becker. Unquestionably the best pitcher in the league, Becker was on fire and the Dakota team had only managed to get two hits off of him all night. Francis was 0 for 3. Frustration was starting to seep into the dugout.

Thanks to a double play by Henderson at second, the top of the inning was over 1, 2, 3 and the Dakota team trudged back the bench. Francis didn't even bother to strip out of his catcher's gear. He was the fourth batter in the lineup, and they were near the bottom, he probably wouldn't get the chance to step up to the plate this inning.

"Hey, Francis."

Francis looked up at his name being called. Bob was standing by the chain link fence dividing the stands from the field. He gestured at Francis to come over.

Francis wove his fingers through the chain link as he leaned against it. "Yeah?"

"What's going on? I know I said for you to hold back some, but it's okay to get a hit. Especially with your team down so much."

Francis huffed in frustration. "_I am trying!_" It came as a growl. "This Becker guy's got my number. I can't get a lock on anything he throws at me."

Bob looked taken aback. "Oh, I thought…"

"Believe me, I'm trying. This Empire team's no joke." Francis cut in. "I don't know if we can…"

"No, don't even go there." Bob interrupted. Francis met the older man's eyes with confusion. Bob leaned forward, his face almost pressed up against the fence. "You can win this. I've seen this team play and you can all do a lot better than what you're showing right now. You've still got time. You can still win this."

Francis was quiet for a moment before slowly nodding.

"Good luck kid." Bob grinned and stepped back.

Francis returned the smile and walked back to the dugout, his mind buzzing. The second Francis sank into his seat on the bench; James Kipling was stepping into the batter's box. He tapped home plate twice with the end of his bat and then assumed his stance. From under the brim of his helmet, Kipling eyed Becker going into his own stance, checking the runner at first, and then winding up.

A split second later the sound of a baseball pinging off of a metal bat echoed around the field. Kipling watched the ball sail through the air, over the outstretched glove of Empire City's center fielder, and over the wall.

Francis, the rest of his team, and the crowd jumped to their feet. Kipling smiled, dropped the bat, and trotted around the bases.

The score was now 5-3. Francis's mind continued to race with possibilities. Bob was right, they could win this.

The next two batters fell to Becker's pitches, but the damage was done. Momentum was swinging with Dakota High.

Francis pulled his catcher's mask on and grinned as he knelt behind home base.

The next two innings went by in a blur. Both Leo Becker and little Oliver Brown were pitching the best games of their lives. No runs were scored and players on both teams were running high on adrenaline. Every time one of Oliver's pitches smacked into Francis' glove, he found himself feeling lighter and lighter.

It was the top of the ninth, with two runs out. The Empire City batter took a few practice swings and then stepped into the box. He spit into the dirt next to Francis. Behind his mask, Francis narrowed his eyes and threw down one finger. Oliver nodded. Fastball. Oliver went into the wind up and unleashed the fastest pitch he'd thrown all night. It had to have hit 80 mph.

The Empire City batter was a little faster, but only just. The bat only caught a piece of the ball and was rocketed straight up and to the right. The batter followed the ball with his eyes and stamped his foot in the dirt, disappointed. Foul ball.

But Francis whipped his mask off and was following the ball with his feet. The ball was hovering over the visitor's dugout and would likely bounce off the wooden roof and out of play. Francis lunged, throwing his mitt as far as it would go over the roof, his other arm bracing himself against the ledge as his feet dangled in the space over the dugout's floor. The ball landed in his glove and Francis pulled it to his chest to contain it even as he lost his grip on the ledge and tumbled into the Lions' dugout.

The ump at first base had run down to monitor the play and Francis held the ball aloft for him to see. Caught. Three outs.

Francis resisted the urge to laugh into the bewildered faces of the Empire City players standing around him, tossed the ball to the ump, and climbed out of the dugout. He ran into an embrace from Oliver Brown and Francis lifted the little pitcher off his feet.

It was now the bottom of the ninth. Dakota was still down by two runs, but Henderson had just gotten on base and there was another at second. And now it was Francis' turn to grab a bat.

Becker was standing on the mound, a furrow of concentration deepening between his eyebrows. He checked over his shoulder to see that Henderson was staying at first then delivered his first pitch.

Francis swung, and missed. The air whistled as his bat swung through it. Strike one.

Francis shook his head in disappointment. Out of the corner of his eye, Francis saw Dash sitting on Bob's shoulders so he could see above the crowd. Frieda and Violet were both jumping up and down, clapping and cheering his name. Francis returned his attention to Becker and tightened his grip on the bat.

The second pitch flew straight at his head and Francis was forced to dive to the dirt to avoid getting hit. The ball bounced off the backstop and both Henderson and the other runner took the opportunity to advance to the next base while the catcher scrambled after the ball.

Coach Barnes was screaming at the ump from the dugout, going red in the face from shouting threats.

Francis got to his feet and nodded when the ump asked if he was alright. Becker got a stern warning that Francis wasn't even sure the other boy heard, he was busy kicking at dirt on the mound. It was hard to tell if Becker was disappointed that he'd thrown a wild pitch, or that the pitch hadn't hit Francis.

Francis assumed his stance in the batter's box, digging his right toe into the dirt for purchase and waited for Becker to throw the next pitch.

When he finally did launch the ball, Francis could have sworn it was moving in slow motion. The ball arched perfectly in front of him and Francis swung, feeling the vibration all the way up his arms as he connected with the ball. And then it was arching away from him. Francis dropped the bat and waved desperately at the ball to keep going.

The ball obeyed. It soared through the air and over the outfield wall.

Francis punched the air several times and took off around the bases while the crowd erupted into cheers. His team was waiting for him and mobbed Francis when he crossed home plate.

The final score was 6-5, in favor of Dakota High. They were state champions. Coach Barnes got a hold of the giant, gleaming trophy first, kissed it and then passed it to co-captains Henderson and Tommy Howes, who almost immediately passed it on to Francis.

Francis soaked in the moment. The cheers of the crowd, Frieda's voice loudest of them all, the claps on the back and hugs from his teammates, and the heft of the trophy in his hands. Francis smiled and thrust the trophy into the air and the crowd cheered even louder.

* * *

What felt like hours later, after the crowd has dissipated and the team had left, promising to meet up to celebrate later, Francis found himself sitting alone near the top the bleachers, watching the sun set beyond the horizon. The last golden rays of light illuminated the field and cast long shadows on the grass.

Francis fiddled with the brim of his cap as he held it in his lap, watching the sunset change from orange, to red, to purple.

"Hi."

Francis turned to the voice. Frieda was climbing the bleachers and settled into the seat next to him. She was wearing his sweatshirt; there were still smudges on her cheeks from the face paint Dash had given her.

Francis slung his arm around her and pulled her to his side, where Frieda happily burrowed and silently watched the sunset with him.

Just as the first stars were appearing in the darkening sky, Francis leaned over and kissed the top of Frieda's head. "I love you."

Frieda's fingers gripped his t-shirt and without missing a beat replied, "I love you too." And Francis could hear it, could hear the love in her voice. Could hear her smile without having to see it. Francis smiled into Frieda's soft, red hair.

Frieda looked up to the sky and pointed at the first, bright star glittering above them. "Make a wish."

* * *

"This had better be good. I've got a flight to catch in less than an hour."

"Oh, it's good. Trust us Mr. Alva."

The lights to one of the laboratories in the Vanmoor Institute clicked on automatically as three figures strode through the doorway.

Edwin Alva stood stiffly, dressed as impeccably as ever in a black, tailored suit, waiting for this something good to be presented to him.

The two others, boys, rushed around the waiting tycoon to where a sheet was covering something huge in the middle of the room. The one wearing a Hawaiian shirt whipped the sheet away, revealing an enormous robot.

The robot was block-shaped, with two arms, including working fingers, and two legs, but instead of a head there was single green eye in the chest. It was an impressive bit of engineering, the robot looked professionally made, not as though it was the work of students.

"May we present our senior project," the one with a long blond ponytail gestured.

Alva appraised the machine quietly. "It's impressive Mr.…."

"Trapper." Ponytail supplied. "And this is my associate Mr. Specs."

"Our project is a fully-functioning robot that tracks electrical signatures." Specs explained.

"Why should I care?" Alva asked bluntly. "This is impressive, but nothing my own scientists couldn't create."

"We thought you might ask that." Trapper smirked. "On the surface, it appears as though the robot only tracks electrical signatures, but it also contains a catalog of every Super ever to exist and what their powers and weaknesses are."

"The robot uses it electrical reserves to power this little baby." Specs tapped the green light with his knuckle. "It's a neural disrupter, it specifically targets the Super cells in the brain and shuts them down."

"So this machine…" Alva started to say.

"…can de-power any Super, so long as the disrupter is aimed at them." Trapper finished. "Not to mention we've made the robot from trinium, the strongest metal found on earth. It's almost impossible to destroy. We discovered its usefulness through some leaked files from the Syndrome incident. He used it to make his omnidromes."

"An ingenious design." Specs commented lightly.

Trapper nodded. "Oh, absolutely."

Alva looked at the robot again with greedy eyes. "But there are many Supers, how can one machine hope to battle all of them effectively?"

"Not a problem." Specs said. He picked up a remote control from the table and hit a button. A wall lifted from the floor and slid back to reveal dozens of robots, all standing to attention, their shiny metal exteriors gleaming in the low light.

"We've prepared for any eventuality." Trapper continued with a wicked grin.

Alva was silent a moment and then finally, he smiled. "Boys, I think we have a deal."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

What? What's this? Plot development? That's new.

Sorry this chapter's so late. It really, really didn't want to be written. But for once, my real life and my fictional world both synced up. I have finals this week and they're killing me. So do I study? No, I write fanfiction. I've definitely got my priorities straight.

Anyway, I hope you guys like the chapter. I killed myself writing it. I'm actually fairly proud of those baseball scenes.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	27. Chapter 27: Everything's Coming Together

Disclaimer: I do not own The Incredibles or Static Shock

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Everything's Coming Together**

"No fair!" Virgil jumped back to his feet and created an energy shield around himself. Francis laughed and continued launching fireball after fireball at the other boy.

Across the Hangar, Violet and Dash were facing off. Dash's speed was countered by Violet's force fields.

High above them, a green flag and a red flag hung from the ceiling. Francis and Dash wore green armbands, and Virgil and Violet wore red. The first to claim the opposite colored flag won the training exercise.

"Sorry Virg, but I'm gonna have to ground you." Francis cackled. His eyes glowed red as he continued to keep Virgil busy with barrage after barrage of flames.

Violet noticed her teammate was in trouble and threw a force field in front of Francis, causing his own fire to come roaring back at him. Francis dropped to the floor and then brought his arms up block a tazer punch. "Ow! Dude." Francis whined and rolled to the side, wincing as sparks danced up his arm.

"Sorry." Virgil raced for his disc and flew into the air.

Dash raced across the room and used his momentum to zoom up the wall and launch himself into mid-air, tackling Virgil inches away from the flags. The two crashed back to the ground and Dash stole Virgil's disc, running away laughing. Virgil gave chase.

"Alright Shorty!" Francis pumped his fist. His celebration was cut short when he was shoved from behind. Francis caught himself with his hands and somersaulted into a crouch, facing his invisible opponent. "Sneaky, I like it."

"Then you'll love this." Violet attacked from the left this time, using a force field to bounce Francis into the wall. Violet then turned towards the lopsided race around the Hangar and used another force field to trip Dash up.

"Nice one." Virgil magnetically summoned his disc into his hand and jumped onto it, flying up to the flags once again.

Francis used flames to propel himself into the air. He and Virgil reached the flags at the same moment and Francis grabbed onto one of the hooks and kicked at the other boy. Virgil dodged and threw another tazer punch. With his hands occupied, Francis couldn't block and the punch connected. The sudden rush of electricity coursing through his system caused Francis to let go of the hook and plummet to the ground.

Violet caught Francis with a force field and smirked at him, pointing upwards triumphantly.

"Game, set, and match!" Virgil crowed, green flag in hand.

Dash kicked the ground. "Aw."

The two teams shook hands. "Almost had me there." Virgil clapped Francis on the back.

Francis shrugged. "Almost. We'll get you guys next time, right Shorty?"

"Right." Dash nodded enthusiastically. "That was fun!"

Up in the control room, Lucius and Bob were watching the kids tease one another.

"What do you think?"

Lucius smiled. "I think they're working like a team. They're clicking."

Bob nodded. "I agree. Even with Dash as a new addition to their training, they've really started to move and think like a team."

"You thinking we should start letting them out into the field, get their feet wet?" Lucius asked.

After a moment of consideration, Bob nodded again. "Yes, they're ready."

* * *

Even though school was officially out for the summer, Francis and the other teenaged Supers of the Sanctum continued to make the commute to Dakota on a daily basis. Violet found herself hanging out with Richie more and more often, and even enjoying some of his geekier hobbies. Virgil and Daisy were busy planning for their trip to Miami, they'd already booked their tickets for the same flight. That left Francis and Frieda with plenty of alone time away from the group. Alone time on a bench in the park, at the back of a darkened movie theater, in Frieda's bedroom while her parents were at work. They weren't picky.

The summer hadn't become too unbearably hot yet so one day, when Daisy suggested they all have a picnic in the park, the others readily agreed. They met in a shady corner of the Dakota Municipal Park and spread their checkered blanket out on the grass. It was late morning, and the park was filled with people. The playground swarmed with kids celebrating their freedom from school while their parents and nannies watched from benches. There was the odd businessman trying to enjoy a peaceful lunch in the sun. It was a beautiful day.

The group was lounging in the shade under a grove of trees on the edge of a grassy field. Virgil brought out the soccer ball he'd carried along and soon he and Francis were passing a soccer ball back and forth. They seemed to be in a competition, who could hit the other with the ball the hardest. Daisy jumped up to join them, and the game mellowed out, while Richie, Frieda, and Violet started a game of Spoons with a pack of cards Richie had brought.

As the sun grew slightly hotter, Francis left the game and flopped onto the ground next to Frieda. He threw an arm over his eyes and within seconds he was asleep.

Frieda chuckled and nudged her boyfriend with her elbow. "Francis, why'd you stop playing?"

Out in the sunshine, Virgil and Daisy had attracted the attention of some of the little kids and were patiently passing the ball around to the gaggle of youngsters while they ran screaming after one another, flagrantly disobeying the rules of soccer by trying to pick the ball up and hurl it at one another.

"It's hot." Francis mumbled.

Frieda looked at Richie, who shrugged. It was pleasantly cool in the shade, but it didn't seem too hot out.

"And 'sides, if I stay in the sun too long I'll get all freckly." Francis muttered again, even quieter. He sounded half asleep.

Frieda almost dropped her cards. "What? You get freckles?" She wrenched Francis' arm away from his face and examined him. Sure enough, faint brown dots had appeared on the bridge of his nose. Frieda squealed happily. "Get back out in the sun until you're covered in freckles." Frieda tried to sit Francis up and he collapsed against her like a ragdoll, a teasing smile on his face. "Aw, c'mon. Don't go boneless on me. I demand freckles."

Richie snickered behind his cards. Violet just shook her head, the corner of her mouth quirking up.

"Fine, be that way." Frieda passed a bottle of water to her boyfriend. "You'll have a faceful of freckles before the summer's over. Mark my words."

Francis flopped over onto his stomach, idly sipping at the water and helping Frieda with her hand of cards.

"I think that's cheating." Richie accused. He turned to Violet. "Don't you think that's cheating?"

Violet put her cards down. "Maybe we should play a team game."

"Euchre?" Frieda suggested.

"Sure."

* * *

"Hey." Richie collapsed onto the blanket beside Violet. He was breathing a little heavily from running around with Virgil. "Where did the lovebirds go?"

Violet looked up from her book. "To get ice cream."

Richie nodded. "Ah. How romantic."

Violet smiled.

Richie pointed behind him. "I think Virg and Daisy are going to go try and get our ball back from that disturbingly large five year old who ran off with it."

"It's my little brother's, I hope they get it back." Violet marked her page and turned to Richie. "What do you want to do now?"

Richie shrugged. "Dunno, want to go get some ice cream too? It's getting kind of hot out."

"Sure."

Violet tried to stand but her feet were tangled in the blanket and she started to topple over. Richie shot up and grabbed Violet around the waist to steady her. Violet put her hands on Richie's chest and then suddenly found her mouth alarmingly close to his.

Then she closed the distance and kissed him.

Richie stiffened and jerked away in surprise. Violet put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't…."

"No. No. It's not you." Richie hurried to explain. "It's just that, I'm…" He trailed off and stared at his feet. "I'm gay."

Violet's face burned red. "Oh!"

"I didn't want you to think, I don't know what I didn't want you to think. And it's not that you're not…because you are…but I'm just not." Richie's cheeks were red too.

Violet had never heard Richie stumble over so may words before. She shook off her surprise and then started laughing. Richie looked offended for a second before Violet threw her arms around him. "Richie, it's fine. You've just been such a good friend to me lately. It seems like everyone else was pairing off and you and I just fit together so well. But it's fine. Really. I'm happy for you." She pulled back and smiled at him. "Let's go get that ice cream."

Richie smile was so big it nearly split his face in two. He offered Violet his arm. "But of course madam."

* * *

It was the hour of the day photographers call "the golden hour." The sun was dipping towards the horizon and everything was bathed in a soft, golden light.

Unusually, the highway was completely devoid of cars. Francis pulled up at a red light and flipped his visor up to wipe at a trickle of sweat. Violet had her head resting against his back, just enjoying the warmth of the setting sun.

The pumping bass line of a rap song approached them from behind and then pulled up alongside them. Francis turned his head and was greeted with the unwelcome sight of Wade sticking his head out the window of his truck, grinning at him.

"Hiya Francis. Funny running into you here." The truck was filled with members of Wade's crew, and they were laughing and nudging one another.

Francis felt Violet sit up and tighten her grip around his waist. "Hi Wade."

"How's your summer going? Still seeing that pretty little redhead?" Wade was trying to act friendly, but his sneer wasn't helping him sell the effect.

Francis gripped the handlebars.

Wade looked up at the traffic light. "Hey, what do you say we have a little fun Francis?" Wade pointed at the light. When that light hits green, let's have us a little race. Down to that intersection, it's about a quarter mile. See who's faster, you on your little crotch rocket or my brand new truck."

Francis eyed the intersection and then slid his gaze over Wade's truck.

"Francis." Violet whispered. "This is a bad idea."

"What d'ya say?" Wade revved his engine.

Francis turned slightly in his seat. "I can beat him."

Violet shook her head. "Mistake. This is a mistake."

Francis frowned and checked the light. Still red. "Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." Violet replied.

"Then hang on." Francis flipped his visor down and grabbed hold of the handlebars. The guys in Wade's truck whooped in delight. Wade smirked.

Violet tightened her grip. "You better win."

All eyes went to the traffic light. The only sound on the deserted street was the sound of engines revving.

The light flashed green.

The truck and the motorcycle took off in a cloud of smoke, their wheels leaving black streaks behind them.

Francis definitely had the advantage. He and Violet were lighter and faster on the motorcycle than Wade's truck was, filled with guys. Francis pulled ahead slightly. They were approaching the intersection fast. Then Wade fell back even more and pulled up directly behind the bike.

Francis whipped his head around to see what the other boy was doing and caught a glimpse of Wade's smirk through the windshield. Wade had never wanted to race. Francis tried to swerve away but Wade accelerated and the truck collided with the back of the motorcycle.

The impact, combined with Francis' attempt to turn them away at the last moment, wrenched the bike into a sharp turn and they flew off the side of the road. Francis was airborne for what seemed like forever. He saw his bike skidding along the cement, sparks flying. He saw Violet crash to the ground and her head bounce off the ground like it was made of rubber. He saw Wade peel away, laughing. Then everything went black.

* * *

Francis came to slowly. Everything was blurred and seemed dark. Then he remembered his helmet visor. He wrenched his helmet off and tried to sit up. Dark spots exploded across his vision. Francis groaned, and got to his feet, then bent over and dry heaved. Everything hurt. He swayed on his feet and put a hand to his head to try and steady himself.

His shoulder and back throbbed. When he touched it, the skin was hot and his fingers came away red.

It was darker out, but the sun hadn't quite set yet. He couldn't have been out for too long. Francis stumbled and fell to his knees.

Violet.

Francis' head shot up, eyes wide. Where was Violet?

He frantically looked around. She was lying on the other side of the wrecked motorcycle, unmoving.

Francis got to his feet again and stumbled over to her, falling at her side. Her helmet was cracked on one side. There was blood on her neck and face. Francis felt for a pulse in her wrist and gasped, choking back tears, when he found one. Weak, but there. Francis fumbled around in his pockets until he found his phone, miraculously still in one piece, and called for help with shaking fingers.

* * *

He hated hospitals. Really, really hated hospitals.

Francis sat on a bed, alone in a private room, waiting for someone to tell him what was happening. His shoulder and back had been wrapped and bandaged after a doctor had spent what felt like an eternity picking gravel and glass out of his skin. They called it road rash. It had stung like hell, but after swallowing a little blue pill Francis wasn't feeling much of anything.

Except worry. Violet hadn't moved at all in the time between when Francis had found her and when the ambulance had arrived. He'd been afraid to move her, he remembered reading in one of the medical textbooks for his Super homework that you shouldn't move someone with a head injury.

At the hospital, Violet has been whisked off in a different direction and Francis hadn't seen her since. Helen and the others had arrived, and she'd checked in on him once to make sure he was alright before disappearing. So now he was waiting.

Francis wanted to get dressed and go find Violet, but his shirt was shredded from the asphalt. He decided it didn't matter.

It turned out to be pretty easy to find Violet. He asked one of the nurses to show him where the Parrs were and she pointed out the room. Violet was lying in the bed, unconscious, with her head bandaged. Her arm was encased in a cast of plaster. Helen sat beside her, holding her uninjured hand, being careful of the i.v. Bob was leaning against the wall, his face stormy. Dash and Virgil were sitting on the other side of the room, looking concerned. Virgil held Jack-Jack, who for once seemed to understand the gravitas of the situation and was being quiet and non-combustible.

Francis stood in the doorway, not sure whether he should go in or not. Bob looked up and noticed the teen standing there, gripping the doorframe for balance. "Francis."

Everyone else looked up at that.

"Oh, Francis honey." Helen ran a hand over her eyes. "I forgot, are you alright? What happened to your arm?"

"I…"

"What the hell happened?" Bob demanded.

Francis faltered. He struggled to come up with a coherent thought.

Bob crossed the room, pulled Francis inside, and shut the door. "What the hell happened?"

"Bob." Helen got to her feet.

"No Helen." Bob stopped her. "I trusted him to keep our daughter safe on that goddamn motorcycle and now look. What happened? Did you lose control? Did you hit something? I'm not going to ask again."

"I messed up." Francis managed. Bob's grip on his arm was painful. The medication they'd given him must be wearing off. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" Bob asked, incredulous. He gestured at Violet with his free hand. "You're sorry! Look at her, they had to drill into her skull and that's all you can say, _you're sorry_?"

Francis just shook his head and pulled away from Bob. "I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, you didn't mean to. I guess that makes it okay." Bob sneered. His face clouded over with anger again. "As soon as we get out of here, I'm calling Dicker."

Francis felt whatever blood was in his face drain away. "What?"

"I don't want you in my house, I don't even want to look at you right now." Bob turned away, taking Helen's vacated seat and began gently stroking Violet's hand. All of the anger drained out of his features and was replaced with worry.

Helen turned from Francis to Bob and finally settled on trying to get Bob's attention. "Bob, we're all upset, but let's not say things that we're going to…" Helen stopped mid sentence. "Francis?"

The door was open and Francis was gone.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Oh boy. It's late and I'm tired so if there are any typos or whatever, I'll get them later. I really wanted to get this chapter out today for two reasons, so it wouldn't be longer than a month since my last update, and to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the Titanic sinking. Come on. How often do I get to say that? I have this really weird love/hate thing going with the Titanic. I'm fascinated by the history of it and I like reading the stories from the survivors, but at the same time it terrifies me. It's probably why I'm scared of cruise ships. It's also why I hate the movie _Titanic_. I know for most people it's this giant, sappy romantic love fest. For me, it's a horror movie. I don't like sitting and watching hundreds of people die horrible, horrible deaths. I don't do horror movies.

Now about the actual story, things are heating up again. There's three chapters left so you know I've got to bring this thing to a climax. I hope you guys like it.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	28. Chapter 28: Everything's Coming Apart

Disclaimer: I don't own _Static Shock_ or _The Incredibles_

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Everything's Coming Apart**

Frieda was sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through a book and listening to raindrops pattering against her window. Her parents had gone out for dinner, but she had opted to stay in and finish her book. She hummed softly to herself, still in a good mood from the picnic earlier. As the thought of Francis crossed her mind, she glanced at her phone, lying on the bed next to her. She'd sent Francis a text a few hours ago and hadn't heard back yet.

It was probably nothing. She didn't want to be one of those clingy, needy girlfriends, but she couldn't help but worry. Francis had gone off the radar before, and had always emerged a sullen, distance mess. There were things going on in his life that Frieda knew he was keeping from her. But she didn't pry. Francis would only retreat further if she tried to go digging around where he didn't want her to be.

So Frieda tried to put her boyfriend out of her thoughts so she could concentrate on the last few pages of her book.

Suddenly, there was a dull pounding that seemed to be coming from downstairs. Frieda looked up in confusion. Was it thunder? She looked out the window. It was still raining, but there was no sign of lightning or traces of rumbling thunder. The pounding repeated itself, louder and more insistent. It was someone knocking on the door.

Frieda got up and wandered downstairs. The foyer was dark and she turned on the light before opening the door.

Standing on the stoop, head bowed against the rain, was Francis. He was soaked to the skin and seemed to be favoring his right side.

"Francis? What…what are you doing here?" Frieda was shocked. "Are you wearing scrubs?"

Francis looked down at the pale blue scrub top he'd stolen from the hospital. "Uh, yeah. Can I come in?"

"Of course." Frieda stepped aside to let Francis in. "What happened to you?" She got a glimpse of white bandages covering Francis' shoulder and back. "You're hurt!"

Francis pulled away from her concerned reach. In the light, Frieda was able to see how pale he was. There were dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept in days, and his face and bare arms were covered in a multitude of tiny cuts and scrapes. He looked up and there was pain in his green eyes. "I messed up."

Frieda wanted to grab her boyfriend and hold him, but the lost look on his face made her think twice. "Let's go upstairs."

In her bedroom, Francis sank into her desk chair, sitting sideways so his back wouldn't be pressed up against the backrest. Frieda got a towel from the bathroom and helped Francis dry off, his injured right shoulder made it difficult for him to do it alone.

Somewhat dry, Francis seemed to come back to himself and he relaxed slightly. Frieda sat on her bed and watched him. "What happened?"

Francis stared at the floor. "It was my fault. It was stupid. Violet's hurt."

Frieda smothered a gasp of concern with her hand.

"We were driving back from the picnic, and Wade pulled up alongside us. He wanted to race." Francis scoffed. "The idiot I am, I agreed. Violet tried to talk me out of it. We crashed. She's in the hospital."

"I think that's where you should be too." Frieda said gently.

Francis shook his head. "No, Bob was really mad. And he should be. He's going to send me back."

Frieda frowned in confusion. "Back? Back where?"

Francis' eyes widened and Frieda could almost see him shut down. He'd said something he wasn't supposed to. She backtracked for him. "I'm going to go make some hot chocolate." She got up and Francis stood too.

"I'll go with you."

Frieda fingered the stiff scrub shirt Francis was wearing. "I think I can find one of my dad's shirts for you to wear. Something's that's not all wet."

* * *

Downstairs, in a warm burgundy Dakota University sweatshirt, Francis watched Frieda prepare the mugs and hot chocolate mix. Rain continued to batter the big bay window and a flash of lightning lit up the room.

Frieda ignited the stovetop and put the kettle on. Little blue flames danced under it, heating the water. She turned to Francis. "I think we should call the Parrs, I bet they're worried about you."

Francis shook his head. "It's probably best if I stay away for a while."

"You mean forever." Frieda corrected. Francis raised an eyebrow questioningly. "I know you. It feels like you came here to say goodbye." She crossed her arms. "That's not fair Francis. People make mistakes. They'll understand, they'll forgive you."

"It's not like that." Francis tried to argue.

"The hell it's not. They're your family, they love you."

"I don't have any family." Francis retorted hotly.

Frieda turned away to check on the kettle. "That's not true. And I think you know that."

"I am not going back, I'm not. They'll have to find me first." Francis muttered, more to himself than to Frieda. She started to turn back to question him and her elbow caught the kettle's handle. The pot crashed the ground and hot water splashed over the tiles. Frieda's hand groped for a handhold on the counter and her arm plunged into the blue fire.

Francis rushed forward and instinctively put his hand over the fire, smothering it instantly. Frieda pulled her arm back and then grabbed Francis, holding his hand under the faucet to run cold water over it. "Hold on, I think there's some burn ointment in the first aid kit in the bathroom…" Frieda stopped herself and stared at Francis' hand. She turned it over in the water and then stared at Francis. "What?"

His hand was perfectly fine, unharmed by the fire. Her own skin stung slightly, but she had only a second of contact with the flames. He had actually put his hand right in it.

Francis stared back, eyes wide. "I think I should probably tell you something."

* * *

The story took a while to tell. Francis didn't want to leave anything out. It felt wrong, to be telling Frieda all of these secrets he had been trained to never reveal. But it also felt right, in some odd way. Like there was a heavy weight being lifted off of him. It felt like he could actually breathe now.

He started from the very beginning. He recounted what he knew about his mother and father and of his early life in the government relocation center. Frieda understood why he didn't want to go back.

Francis touched upon his time in Dakota, what lengths he had gone to in order to survive and disappear into the crowd of people. How eventually his life in a gang had evolved from a survival need to a lifestyle. He talked about exposing his powers that day, it seemed like forever ago, to save the lives of his classmates and teachers. How Mr. Incredible and Frozone had tracked him down under the NSA's orders.

Francis hesitated about whether or not he should mention the Parrs and Virgil, but Frieda pieced that together herself.

"You guys, all of you. You're all Supers aren't you?"

Francis nodded his head slowly.

"And you're all Superheroes. You're Hotstreak." Frieda actually laughed. "I knew it!"

Francis frowned. "What? How?"

"There was one time, after a fight. That psycho guy with the purple hair. You got cut, right here." Frieda traced the path Shiv's energy knife had carved across Francis' shoulder. "I saw the bandage. I suspected, but I guess I just thought it was a crazy idea. And Violet and Virgil, I had no idea." Frieda laughed again. "No wonder Mr. and Mrs. Parr were so nervous when I came over for dinner."

Francis cracked a smile, and then froze at the reminder of the Parrs. It was bad enough he'd just revealed his own secret identity, but what them? He's just broken the Super cardinal rule. Bob would really never forgive him now. Francis grabbed Frieda's hands. "You can't tell. You can't. Please, you have to promise you won't tell anyone, ever."

Frieda's eyes widened in surprise. "Of course, I would never…"

"No, Frieda. You don't understand. This is really important. Our secret identities, it's the most important thing we have." Francis' voice cracked as he tried to convey how serious he was. "If anyone found out, they could use it against us, they could hurt us and the people we care about. I shouldn't have told you, we're never supposed to tell. But now you know about me and the Parrs and Virgil and his dad and you have to promise. Please."

Frieda squeezed Francis' hands reassuringly. "I promise. I won't tell." She closed the small gap between them and placed a kiss on his cheek. "I promise."

Francis let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Good. Thank you."

Frieda smiled at him and then yawned. It was late. Her parents would be home soon. If her bedroom light was off, they would think she was asleep and wouldn't check on her. She crawled to the head of the bed and pulled the covers down. "C'mon, let's go to bed. I'm exhausted."

"Wha...?" Francis stared dumbly at his girlfriend.

She patted the bed beside her. ""C'mon, we can figure the rest of this out in the morning. You look tired too."

"Yeah, but." Francis gestured at the bed. "We've never…."

Frieda laughed again. "We're just going to sleep. Unless you want to crash on the floor? But I'd prefer to snuggle."

Francis smiled weakly and crawled up beside Frieda. He pulled the sweatshirt up over his head and got under the covers, facing Frieda. Frieda turned so Francis could wrap his arms around her waist. She put her hands over his and then reached for the light. They both fell asleep listening to the rain on the window.

* * *

"Careful with that." Specs snapped at one of the dock workers struggling to unload one of the enormous crates line dup side by side inside the truck.

Trapper shook his head. "So hard to find good help."

The two young engineers stood off to the side, watching as their robots were hauled into Alva Industries' main laboratory. It was the middle of the night, and the only ones aware of the transaction were the two boys, the workers, and Alva.

The billionaire himself observed the work from the catwalks high above the scurrying laborers. Beside his father, nervously gripping the handrail, was Edwin Junior. He turned his gaze from his father's stoic face to the crates below. "Why are you buying the robots?"

Alva glanced at his son from the corner of his eye. "We've already gone over this. The bio-mechanical engineering in these robots is valuable and useful."

"Yeah but," Junior hesitated. "Don't you think they could hurt somebody?"

"Not just anybody. Supers." Alva replied flippantly.

Junior frowned in confusion and then fumbled over his next question. "Aren't Supers good?"

Alva turned, aiming his blank face with just a hint of disappointment at his son. "Perhaps some. But not all. Have you forgotten what happened to your mother, caught on that train with that Supervillain? Or how about when this very factory was burned to the ground by a rogue Super? It took years and millions of dollars to rebuild." Alva returned his stony gaze to the offloading. "For every Superhero, there are dozens of Supervillains, and we shouldn't depend on others to fight our battles for us."

Junior nodded stiffly. "I understand. Sorry."

"Sir." The foreman climbed the stairs to the catwalks and stopped when Alva began walking towards him. "All the crates are accounted for. We need your signature."

"Of course." Alva reached for the pen.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash and a scream from down below. Alva, the foreman, and Junior ran to the handrail. One of the crates had been dropped, and split open. The robot inside had been activated and now had one of the men wrapped in his metallic hand.

Most of the men ran off in all directions, trying to put distance between themselves and the robot. A few stayed, trying to figure out a way to free their friend, who was pale with fear as the robot scanned the room.

Alva's brow furrowed. "Where are those two morons! Get them in here and turn that thing off!"

But Specs and Trapper had vanished. Probably amongst the other fleeing workers.

The robot turned to the open door and its light blinked. It tossed the man aside, bowling over those who had stayed behind, and began marching for the open air.

"Close the door!" The foreman barked into his radio.

The door slid closed, heavy steel now blocked the robot from its escape. It continued its march, straight through the door.

Alva clenched his fists. Trinium. No door on earth could hold that robot. "I need a containment unit. Immediately. That robot can't be allowed off the premises." He ordered, voice calm. The foreman nodded and started to relay the message. "And find those two so-called scientists. They're the only ones who can shut it off."

* * *

The next morning, when Frieda's mom checked in to see if Frieda was awake, she found her daughter sitting at her desk on the computer. They exchanged pleasantries and then both her mom and dad left for work.

After the front door had closed, Francis came out from Frieda's closet where he had been hiding. "You know, you play the good girl pretty well, but you've got a bit of naughty in you too." He flopped onto her bed with a smirk.

She turned in her chair. "I don't like lying to my parents." She shrugged. "But I'm a teenager. It's what we do."

A police car raced by outside, its siren splitting the calm morning air like an axe.

Frieda wandered over to the bed and sat down beside Francis' feet. "So, we said we'd continue talking about….everything…in the morning." She gestured at the window. "It's morning."

"Is that what you call it when it's all bright outside?" Francis asked.

Frieda tickled the bottom of Francis' foot and he jerked his knees to his chest. "Hey, no fair."

"Don't tell me. You're ticklish." Frieda smiled. "You're ticklish and you get freckles. You're the ideal boyfriend."

"That's not the word I would use." Francis grumbled. "Something more like liar, idiot. Those are good words."

Frieda frowned. "If you think I'm going to be mad about you lying to me about this whole Super thing, forget it. How can I be? I understand that you need a secret identity. Francis, you're not just a Super, you're a Superhero. That's pretty amazing." She crawled up the bed and snuggled into Francis' side. "And as for idiot, I'm not going to deny you have your moments, but for the most part you're pretty smart. And I think you need to talk to the Parrs."

Francis was silent for a few moments and then nodded. Frieda felt the movement. "You're right." He snorted. "You're always right."

Frieda laughed. "Just remember that." She sat up and went to the door. "I'm hungry, breakfast?"

* * *

Bob could say last night was honestly the worst night of his life. He'd had bad nights before, of course. Everyone has. But sitting in that uncomfortable plastic chair, watching Violet's chest rise with each breath and keeping an ear on the heart monitor beeping away beside her, Bob had never had a night like that. It seemed to drag on forever. He didn't sleep at all.

Lucius had brought changes of clothes and blankets before taking Virgil home. Someone needed to stay at the Sanctum and be on watch duty. He promised to take care of Jack-Jack. Dash refused to leave and was now curled up on the cot beside Helen, who had fallen asleep only a few hours ago after sitting up with Bob.

A nurse had come in a while ago to check on Violet and assured Bob that she was now in stable condition. The hallway outside was getting busier as the night shift and the morning shift changed. Bob groaned and rubbed his eyes. It wasn't just Violet that was keeping him awake, although that was a big part. It was Francis.

He'd vanished. Lucius said he hadn't come home or heard from him. Helen tried to call his cell but it was turned off. Bob wanted to hit himself. How could he have threatened to turn Francis over to Dicker. Of course that would make him want to run.

Bob had been upset and mad, but that wasn't much of an excuse. He'd hacked into the traffic control database and found the accident footage from a traffic camera at the intersection. He watched the race, fuming at Francis for being goaded into a trap like that, and then saw both Francis and his daughter being thrown from the motorcycle.

He'd trained Violet too well. She didn't conjure up a forcefield before her body slammed into the ground. All of the kids in his care had been drilled about the need for secrecy, protecting their secret identity came before all else. So Violet hadn't exposed her powers, knowing Wade and his goons were watching. And she had suffered for it. There were more important things than a secret identity. Bob would trade his secret identity, show his true self to the world, if it meant Violet would be okay.

Helen stirred and sat up sleepily, dark circles under her eyes. She looked to Violet first, to confirm she was still there, before looking to Bob. "Morning."

"Morning." He lifted his eyes to her. They had both left out the "good."

"How is she?" Helen absentmindedly ran her hand through Dash's hair as she yawned.

"Better. The nurse said she should wake up in a few hours."

Helen carefully swung her legs over the side of the cot, careful not to disturb Dash. "And Francis?"

Bob gestured to the phone in his hand. "Still not answering."

"Mom?" Dash sat up.

"Hi sweetie." Helen hugged Dash to her side.

Dash looked around the room and his gaze fell on Violet. "Is she better?"

"Yes, she'll be okay." Helen comforted her son.

"Good." Dash yawned and the found the remote. "Can I watch TV?"

Helen nodded. "Just keep the volume down."

Dash started flipping through the channels and Helen moved to go sit next to Bob. "Did you get any sleep?" Bob shook his head. Helen sighed and leaned into his side. "She'll be okay." Helen murmured.

Bob grunted. It sounded like an affirmation. Helen tried again. "We'll find him." Silence. "We will."

"Um, mom? Dad?" Dash broke in.

"Honey, we're talking…"

"Mom, look!"

Bob and Helen looked to Dash, who was pointing at the television screen. They both blinked in surprise and then shot to their feet. A robot was tearing through downtown Dakota.

Buildings crumbled in its wake and people ran screaming. The police and firefighters were on the scene, trying to contain the robot and the fires that sprang up when it directed its laser eye at something incendiary. The news reporters were shouting into their microphones to be heard over the shouts, screams, and crashes. The robot continued to advance towards them and the reporters were forced to run with the fleeing crowds. The camera image bounced and jostled and eventually was dropped the ground, the cameraman abandoning his equipment in his panic.

Bob and Helen exchanged looks and then ran from the room, already calling up Lucius. Dash was right behind them.

* * *

Richie was fast asleep, enjoying the ability to sleep until noon, when his entire house shook on its foundation. Richie rolled out of bed and scrambled for his glasses. "Earthquake!"

"Richie!" His bedroom door was thrown open and his mother ran inside. "We have to go!"

Richie found his jeans on the floor where he had kicked them off last night, pulled them on, and then he and his mom ran out of the house. His neighbors were doing likewise and they flooded onto the street. They all turned to see a giant robot advancing up the street towards them, demolishing buildings as it went. It seemed to be searching for something.

The crowd fled in the opposite direction and Richie pulled out his phone.

* * *

"I don't mean to brag, but my pancakes are the best." Frieda smiled as she flipped said pancake in the pan.

Francis was sitting at the counter watching her. "That's a pretty bold statement."

"I'm a pretty bold girl." Frieda turned and scraped the pancake out of the pan with a spatula. Francis offered her his plate, already full of pancakes. Frieda tossed the pan into the sink and then sat next to her boyfriend. "Did you get the orange juice?"

"Already poured." Francis slid a glass to her.

Frieda's phone rang and she reached for it. "It's Richie, hang on." She flipped it open. "Hi Rich, what's up?" Frieda's brow creased and she put a hand to her other ear to block out the sound so she could hear better. "Richie, I can barely hear you. What's going on?" She frowned in concentration. "What? Wait, is someone screaming? Richie, where are you? Robot?" She looked at Francis who was no watching her with concern. "What robot? Richie?" Frieda pulled the phone away from her ear and frowned at it. "He hung up."

Frieda got to her feet and walked over the to TV sitting on the counter. She turned it on and found a news channel. She and Francis stared wide-eyed at the screen. "Oh my god." Frieda clapped a hand over her mouth.

Mr. and Mrs. Incredible were battling a giant robot. Dash was running around the perimeter of the fight, getting bystanders out of the way. Mrs. Incredible stretched to wrap herself around the robot, hopefully pinning its arms to its side, when it trained its eye on her. It flashed a green light and Mrs. Incredible fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

Mr. Incredible tried to reach to her and was swiftly batted away by the robot. Dash quickly ran to his mother's side and pulled her away. Mr. Incredible dug himself out of the rubble of the building he had just been thrown through and faced the robot again.

Francis got to his feet. "I have to go."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

A couple things about this chapter. I don't know if we ever found out what happened to Mrs. Alva or not. Hell, she could be alive in the cartoon for all I know. But I needed a reason for Alva to have a grudge against Supers, bad Supers anyway, and that seemed like a good reason. I hesitated about making Alva the villain of this story, and I ended up with him being the catalyst for this final showdown, but he doesn't come across as particularly villainous to me. You can read it differently of course, but I still see Specs/Trapper/and their robot as the true villains.

The first part of this chapter was really easy to write, I had envisioned the Francis/Frieda scene for a long time. Unfortunately the second half was not as easy. Next chapter is the big fight. Two more chapters, get ready.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	29. Chapter 29: Incredibles Assemble!

Disclaimer: I do not own Static Shock or The Incredibles

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Incredibles Assemble!**

Francis dashed out into the street and started sprinting against the flow of traffic. There were crowds of people moving up the street, some looking over their shoulders in fear. Police officers were out in force, trying to direct the stampede in a safe direction and keeping them out of traffic's way. Every few minutes a police cruiser or ambulance would go flying past the crowd with their sirens blaring and lights flashing.

In the distance, there was smoke rising into the air. An explosion went off and some of the fleeing people screamed, ducked, then continued running on.

Francis looked back over his shoulder at Frieda's house and considered going back to tell her she should evacuate as well but then thought better of it. The Incredibles had engaged the robot, which meant it was staying in one place for the moment. Francis had to get there and help however he could.

He stepped to the side to try and get his thoughts together. He wanted to help, but running in half-cocked wasn't going to help anyone. He needed to be smart about this. First things first, he needed his suit.

Francis cut across the street and through an alley, breaking away from the congestion. He kept a spare suit in his locker at school.

* * *

Bob lifted an SUV off the ground and with a roar of rage threw it at the robot. The car smashed against its metal skin and broke into pieces. Shards of shrapnel rained down around the behemoth as it swiveled its menacing green eye away from Helen and Dash and back to Bob.

Good. Bob wanted its attention away from his family. Whatever that light is, it had hurt Helen. She was still down, face scrunched up in pain as Dash kneeled beside her.

In incapacitating Helen, the robot had also shown its biggest threat. That light. If Bob could avoid that light and find the robot's weakness, then he could beat this thing.

Only problem was there didn't seem to be a weakness.

The metal the robot was made of was strong, it didn't dent or even scratch no matter what Bob threw at it. It reminded him of Syndrome's omnidroids, which meant that only the robot could damage itself.

The robot focused it eye on Bob and flashed its light, but he was rolling out of the way and taking cover behind a row of parked cars before it had even blinked. The robot pursued him, smashing through the metal, glass, and rubber as though it were wading through water.

Bob scanned the street for new ammo and spotted an abandoned motorcycle lying on its side. He had an idea.

Bob ran for the bike, staying low to the ground and dodging the robot's attacks. He got to the motorcycle and turned the engine on. The motor purred to life in his hands and Bob tore a small hole in the fuel canister before spinning and throwing it at the monster.

The motorcycle exploded on impact and the robot teetered on its feet. When the smoke cleared, there were scorch marks on the robot's front, but the green light was intact and the robot continued marching towards Bob.

Gritting his teeth, Bob looked around for a new plan of attack but found nothing. The robot raised one of its arms and Bob braced for impact.

The punch sent him through the window of a video store. He smashed through the display shelves before rolling into the back wall. A crack raced up the wall and bits of plaster fell on Bob as he struggled back to his feet.

There were shouts from outside and Bob felt his heart drop. Dash's voice. He charged to the front of the store as fast as he could.

Dash had raced at the robot the moment his father had been batted aside. He ran around the robot in circles, hoping to confuse it before backing up and running at the monster at full speed.

Dash was fast, but not faster than the speed of light.

The green light hit him and he felt a pain go through him, starting from the inside and spreading to his extremities. Dash gasped and then yelped in pain. Then suddenly, his legs began to slow down and he tripped over a piece of scrap metal lying in the road.

Dash fell and rolled head over heels, finally coming to a rest at the robot's feet. It extended one clawed hand and picked Dash up. He wanted to struggle and get away, but his body wouldn't cooperate with him. The pain had melted away into numbness.

Bob burst through the broken store window and roared as he tackled the robot like a linebacker.

Dash was dropped and he lay limply in the road, trying to will his legs to move.

Bob's attention went to his son after he had sent the robot crashing to the pavement, which allowed the robot to wrap Bob in one if its claws.

It had Bob by the leg and as it stood, Bob was flipped upside down. He tried to reach up to grab the claw to pry it open, but the robot slammed him into the ground. It left a Bob-sized crater in the ground. Then the robot lifted Bob and smashed him into the ground again. And again.

By that point Bob's vision was getting blurry. He groaned and tried once more to reach the claw but the robot raised Bob once more, prepared to slam him into the ground again.

A streak of flame crashed into the robot and sent it flailing to the ground. Bob was dropped and lay on his side, gasping for air. When he looked up, Francis was standing in front of him.

He was facing the robot and even beneath the mask Bob had never seen Francis so furious. And he would know, he'd been the cause of Francis' anger one too many times. Bob sat up. "Francis?"

Francis turned to Bob and the fury was replaced with worry and…fear? Francis looked at the ground, back to the robot, then back to Bob.

"I'm sorry."

Bob could only nod. He got to his feet and winced at how sore he was. Maybe he was getting too old for this Superhero thing. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

Francis looked surprised but Bob stopped him by gesturing at the robot, which was getting back up. "Let's focus on this right now."

Francis nodded and fell into line beside Bob. "Got a plan?"

"Not really."

Francis smirked. "But you always say to go into battle with a plan in place."

"I also say be ready to improvise." Bob rumbled. "Let's improvise."

The robot turned to face them. After all that fighting and the robot had still only sustained light damage to its surface.

"Avoid the laser." Bob advised.

Francis nodded and took a deep calming breath. Showtime.

Bob and Francis both moved at the same time, and suddenly it seemed as though Francis was back in the Hangar at the Sanctum, practicing his teamwork drills. Bob went right, Francis went left, they split the robot's attention and both attacked the robot's leg joints. Bob's massive strength combined with Francis' heat did seem to have some impact. The robot's step stuttered and halted before grinding back into life. They had damaged something at least.

The robot brought its claw down in a hammering blow and Francis just managed to duck out of the way. His shoulder protested at the movement and he swore loudly. Going into a fight injured was not a good idea.

Bob wrenched a street light out of the ground and used it like a baseball bat, cracking the steel pole against the robot's chest, hoping to crack the light.

No such luck. The light flashed at Bob and he jumped aside.

Francis summoned flames into both of his hands and then thrust the jet stream of fire at the robot. The flames licked and leaped around the robot, its metallic skin burning red for a moment before the robot lifted one giant foot and tried to stomp Francis into the ground. He rolled aside but the robot caught him with a backswing of one if its huge clawed hands and Francis went flying down the street.

Shards of glass and gravel bit into his skin as Francis skid along the ground. He planted one foot and turned his tumble into a controlled roll, coming to a stop in a crouch facing the robot. His eyes flashed red.

Bob had engaged the robot again, but nothing either of them threw at the robot seemed to have any impact. The fight had already destroyed this portion of the city and if they let the robot continue its rampage, more damage would be caused and more people would be hurt. Francis glanced at Dash and Helen lying motionlessly on the fringe of the battlefield. They couldn't let that happen.

Francis got to his feet just as Bob was smacked with one of the claws and was sent sprawling. Francis ran to help Bob up and then they both dodged away from the green light.

"You guys need some help?"

Francis looked up and Virgil zoomed into view, a grim smile on his face. From an aerial viewpoint he could see the devastation caused by the fight better than anyone and even cracking a customary joke wasn't enough to lighten the tension that hung thick in the air.

"Static!" Francis grinned. He was honestly delighted to see some backup.

Bob glanced at Virgil and then darted forward to meet the robot, which was advancing towards the heroes as they stood in the road.

Virgil landed beside Francis. "What's the situation?"

"Big-ass robot tearing up Dakota."

"Thanks. That was helpful."

Francis nodded towards the robot. "We can't pierce it. Don't know what it's made of but it's tough. That green light will mess you up. It hit Helen and Dash with it, they're down."

Virgil's eyes widened and he looked around for his friends, finding them out of harm's way but injured. He jumped back onto his disc. "I saw a police barricade down the street. They're giving us some room to fight, but the paramedics can't get any closer. I'll fly them over there and be back."

Francis nodded. "Be fast."

Virgil gathered Helen and Dash together. Helen was awake, her face pale with pain. "Virgil, what's going on?" She gasped through gritted teeth.

"Francis and Bob are fighting the robot. I'm going to get you and Dash somewhere safe." Virgil explained quickly. He created a sphere of electricity around the two Supers and lifted them into the air.

"Francis? I thought he was…" Helen muttered but then shook her head. "Never mind. I'm glad he's here. What about Lucius?"

"He's on his way." Virgil assured her. "I just move faster."

He spotted the ambulances and police cruisers lined up at the barricade. There was a flurry of activity with officers running around, their walkie-talkies calling out orders every few seconds. Television reporters were trying to get past the barricade, their cameras and microphones jutting out in every direction.

Virgil floated down and hailed a paramedic. "Hey, they're hurt! We need help!"

A female paramedic hurried to help, signaling to her colleague to get a stretcher. "What happened?"

Virgil shook his head. "I'm not sure. Something about a light. It must be internal."

She nodded and then bent over Dash, a hand on his pulse. "It's steady." She checked his breathing. "Respiratory's normal." She looked over her shoulder. "Do you have those stretchers yet?"

"Here." A younger male paramedic slid one out of the back of the nearest ambulance and ran it over to them. "Help me get him up Jean."

Jean and the other paramedic lifted Dash gently onto the stretcher and strapped him down. A fireman and another paramedic appeared with another stretcher for Helen and began helping her onto it.

Virgil stayed long enough to see the pair loaded onto an ambulance before taking off again. He needed to get back to the fight.

* * *

Francis created a sword made of flames and tried to stab the green light as Bob distracted the robot. While the sword wasn't actually sharp in any way, Francis could concentrate the highest heat of the flame to the tip and he hoped that would have some effect.

No such luck. The robot turned to Francis and casually swatted him like a fly. Francis crashed into a brick wall and crumpled to the ground. His vision went black for a moment before he shook his head and got back to his unsteady feet.

"You okay?" Virgil landed beside him.

"Good enough." Francis nodded grimly. "Any ideas? We could use one."

Virgil surveyed the situation at a glance, just like he'd been taught. The robot seemed impervious. But everything had a weakness. If only he could find it.

Virgil narrowed his eyes as the robot turned, tracking Bob as he continued to dodge and deflect its blows, and he got a good look at the monster for the first time. He took in the green light, the compact design, the spinning and smashing claws, and his eyes widened. "Holy shit!"

Francis looked at him. "What?"

"I know this robot!"

"Huh?" Francis looked back and forth between the robot and Virgil. "How?"

"I designed it! Or, I helped anyway." Virgil jabbed a finger at the robot. "That thing was the final project for my senior mentors."

"Are you telling me this is a science project gone bad?" Francis asked, disbelief visible on his face.

Virgil frowned. "Maybe. Specs and Trapped talked about building a model, but I didn't think it would be on this scale."

Francis nodded. "Okay, then talk to me. What's that thing made of? Can we beat it?"

Virgil pointed at the green light. "That is our biggest problem. That's its primary weapon. It's supposed to track electrical signatures. In some of the theoretical designs we came up with a neural disrupter. It would target certain parts of the brain and shut them down, temporarily."

Francis stared blankly at Virgil for a few seconds. "What would that do to someone?"

Virgil shook his head. "I'm not sure exactly, it was only a theory. For example, if the laser were aimed at a Super it could shut down the Super part of the brain and take away their powers."

"I don't think that's an example. I think that's what's happening." Francis said slowly. He looked at the robot. "That thing is hunting Supers." He continued when he saw Virgil's confused look. "Think about it. It was tearing apart the city for no reason, like it was looking for something. Now that we're fighting it, it's completely stopped trying to move on. It's ignoring normal humans. It wants to fight us. It wants to hit us with that laser and take us out. Once it had hit Helen and Dash it ignored them."

Virgil nodded. "I think you're right."

There was a crash as Bob was on the receiving end of yet another crushing blow. He bounced across the pavement and landed in front of the two teens. They helped him up.

"Virgil knows about the robot." Francis said quickly.

"What? How?" Bob asked.

The robot was advancing slowly towards them.

"Long story." Virgil started to explain.

Bob cut him off. "Never mind. Do you know how to get under that armor?"

"In the designs the robot was made out of trinium. It has a melting point of 3425.3 degrees farenheit." Virgil looked at Francis. "If you can get that high, we can melt the trinium and then Bob," Virgil nodded at the Parr patriarch, "you can pierce it with something. That should stop it."

Bob noticed Francis's wide-eyed stare. "Can you get that high?"

"I dunno." Francis hesitated. "I've never tried."

"Don't hold back." Bob clapped a hand onto the pyro's shoulder. "You can do it."

Francis nodded and then turned to face the robot.

Virgil and Bob ran out of the way. "We're going to want to be as far back as possible." Virgil shouted as they ran. "Things are about to get pretty warm."

Bob stopped and pulled a tall lamppost out of the ground. He slung it over his shoulder and waited for his shot.

Francis let out a deep breath and reached deep inside to that warm place within. He could almost see the flames inside his chest, roiling and wild and desperate to get out. He'd spent most of his life trying to keep those flames contained within himself. Controlling fire isn't like controlling ice or water or anything else. Fire, once unleashed, has a mind of its own. It can destroy and it can hurt. But it has never hurt Francis. So now he was going to put his trust into something that he's never let free in its entirety and trust that it won't hurt him or anyone else.

Francis closed his eyes, took one more breath, even as he felt the street rattle under the giant step of the robot as it drew within a claw's reach of him. His eyes flashed open and they were a bright, crimson red.

He threw his hands out and a white-hot jet of flames erupted from him, directly into the heart of the robot. The metal monster teetered but did not fall. Francis continued to pour on the heat, steadily rising the temperature of the flames higher and higher. The air around him shimmered. The tar on the street around him began to bubble. Shattered shards of glass on the ground or in window frames dripped into a clear liquid and began to boil.

Virgil threw up an arm in front of his face at the extreme heat that rolled towards them. Eventually he was forced to construct a force field of electricity around Bob and himself to keep the heat at bay.

And still Francis let loose more and more fire. The heat inside of him seemed to sing in his veins, and a grin crept across his face. So this was freedom. This was what his powers could do.

Slowly, the robot's metal exterior began to drip like watercolors on paper. The point where Francis was concentrating his attack began to boil and bubble and then the metal gave way, exposing the robot's insides.

Bob didn't hesitate. He reared back and threw the lamppost like a javelin and it pierced the robot through the chest. It punched out its back, leaving the robot skewered. The green light blinked and then died.

Francis stopped abruptly, the flames dying as quickly as the robot. He fell to his knees and gasped for air.

Virgil didn't let the shield down for several minutes because of the heat and frowned in concern when the temperature didn't fade.

That was the scene Lucius arrived to when he finally appeared at the battlefield. Francis on the ground, with a half-melted, half-impaled robot in front of him, and Virgil and Bob trapped in an electric bubble a few hundred yards away. The air was hot, and metals on the ground were still boiling. "Whoa, looks like I missed something."

Lucius stayed well back of the heat's epicenter so that he could draw water from the air. He collected as much as he could and then threw a sheet of ice all along the street to cool things down. There was a hiss of steam and the heat melted the ice as quickly as it was laid down, but it cooled things off enough for Virgil to let his shield down.

Virgil and Lucius ran over to Francis to see if he was okay. He was still kneeling in the road. Francis turned his head as they approached and grinned through the grime and sweat on his face. "I'm stuck to the street."

His hands and knees were stuck in the tar where it had congealed. Virgil snorted and then laughed. "Hang on." He zapped Francis free and then helped the other teen to his feet. Lucius quickly, and anxiously, checked them both for injuries. All of them wore relieved smiles.

Bob inspected the robot, noting with satisfaction that it was indeed no longer a threat. His face darkened. They weren't done here yet. They had to find whoever had unleashed this robot on Dakota, and make sure they were punished for it. And if Dash or Helen were badly hurt…Bob clenched his fists at the thought. They were going to pay.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I kinda just want to laugh at how long it's been since I last updated. Apologies to one and all. But I think I have a decent excuse. I spent the summer in England, with a very shoddy internet connection, enjoying the Olympics. It was awesome. Any way, there's only one chapter left in this monster of a story and that should be up soon-ish. Let me know what you guys think, if anyone is still reading this.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	30. Chapter 30: Riding Off into the Sunset

Disclaimer: I do not own The Incredibles or Static Shock

**Chapter Thirty: Riding off into the Sunset**

Quietly and discreetly, Violet had been moved to a new room, which was also occupied by her mother and brother. The room was designed for Supers; the windows were blacked out to provide privacy and the beds and equipment were all specially designed to provide the needs of any Super. NSA guards stood watch outside the door.

Helen and Dash had been brought from the scene of the battle straight to the hospital, where Super-specialists were already set up to receive and diagnose them. Upon Virgil's advice, the doctors had performed brain scans on the pair and, as theorized, found the Super part of the brain blocked. They also found that the effects were temporary. The Super genes were already breaking down the barriers. While the ordeal was painful and disorienting, Helen and Dash should both recover.

The relief was plainly visible on Bob's face. He had refused to be seen by doctors, although being nearly indestructible meant he wasn't even scratched, and was sitting by his wife's side. Every few minutes he would shift his attention to his children, to make sure they were still safe and whole. For someone who loved his family so much, it was as if seeing them in pain also caused Bob physical pain. He had spoken with Rick Dicker by phone to bring the NSA man up to date on the situation and now sat a silent vigil over his family.

Virgil and Francis had been thoroughly examined by the specialist team. Francis squirmed under the attention but allowed them to check his shoulder wound, which required cleaning and rewrapping after he'd torn it open during the fight. He had superficial cuts and bruises, which were tended to as well. A long cut on his forearm, the product of a shard of glass shearing through flesh, had needed stitches. Virgil was physically fine, having never entered the fray, but was checked over anyway because Lucius was anxiously standing nearby with that Dad look in his eyes.

After being reassured that Virgil was fine, Lucius had gone back out to oversee the cleanup. A large portion of Dakota had suffered damages from the fight and the robot itself needed to be seen to. Lucius wanted to make sure it was dismantled and sent to the NSA for analysis. It was pretty clear that the robot was created to fight and destroy Supers. The question on everyone's mind now was, why?

The who was not such a big question. Virgil had briefed his father on the robot's origins and had been sent off to track down Specs and Trapper with strict orders to report any findings before acting.

That left Francis and the Parrs at the hospital. Francis crossed his arms firmly over his chest and tried not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. God, did he hate hospitals.

An orderly hurried by with a tray laden down with sharp and shiny implements. Francis shivered and turned his attention back to the room in front of him. The NSA guard stationed by the door nodded to him, obviously recognizing the teenaged pyro.

Francis returned the nod and pushed open the door. Both Bob and Helen looked up when he entered. Francis wasn't surprised to see Helen awake, she was a tough lady.

"Francis, are you alright?" Helen immediately asked with a motherly concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Francis shut the door behind him. "Just some cuts. How're you feeling?"

Helen smiled and motioned to a vacant chair on the other side of her bed with one hand. Bob had encased her other hand between both of his large paws and seemed reluctant to let go. "Better now that we know what's going on. I'm just relieved everyone is alright and we'll get our powers back soon."

Francis nodded. "Me too."

Helen reached for Francis and he gave her his hand. "Francis, where did you go? We were so worried about you."

Francis stared at the floor. "I went to Frieda's. I was…scared." There. He had said it.

Bob got to his feet and circled around to Francis's side of the bed. Francis looked up, his face pale and nervous. Wordlessly, Bob pulled Francis out of the chair and into his arms, crushing Francis in a tight bear hug. "You never have to be scared of me Francis." The big man muttered gruffly. He released the teen but kept a hand on either shoulder so Francis was forced to face him. "I was upset and I said things I shouldn't have. I apologize."

Francis was so shocked at first he could only nod. When he found his voice he stumbled over the words that had been running on a loop through his mind since the accident. "But it's my fault. I shouldn't have let Wade get to me. I'm the one who got Violet hurt…"

Bob cut Francis off. "No. People make mistakes. I don't blame you for what happened. We, " he motioned at Helen, "don't blame you."

"That's right." Helen added firmly. "You're family Francis. Families are allowed to get mad and say stupid things, so long as they make up for it later. Families forgive each other."

Francis nodded jerkily and then laughed softly. "I guess I don't have a lot of experience with this whole family thing."

"Well, you're a part of _this_ family." Helen continued.

"Absolutely." Bob nodded. "In fact." He walked over to a bag sitting by the door. "I had Lucius bring this over. As the family lawyer, he's been working on it for us for a while." Bob pulled out a file and handed it to Francis. "Just so you know we already consider you a part of the family. This would just make it official."

Francis opened the file and stared in bewilderment at the adoption papers inside. He looked back and forth between the Parrs and the papers.

"Now, obviously we don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable." Helen said. "But if you do want to become a Parr officially, all we need is your signature."

Bob smiled at Francis. "We just wanted to let you know that there's no danger of us sending you back to Dicker, not now. You're ours. We intend to keep you."

Slowly, a smile spread across Francis' face. "Anybody got a pen?"

* * *

Virgil flew low over the city, eyes scanning the streets. He'd already searched the school and the homes of Specs and Trapper. Their parents hadn't seen them in over a day and were worried. Their lab and lockers at school had been cleaned of anything incriminating.

Virgil followed his instincts and decided to check out the industrial sector. Factories and warehouses dotted the landscape below him. The Alva Industries warehouse was one of the largest around and Virgil prepared to fly right over when he noticed maintenance men fixing a tear in the chain link fence surrounding the warehouse. Virgil's eyes narrowed and he looked for anything else suspicious. There, hidden behind some strategically placed crates, was a gaping hole in the warehouse's concrete wall. Construction workers were quietly and quickly patching the wall. That was certainly questionable enough for Virgil to call in. He got out his shock-vox.

By the time Lucius and Bob arrived on the scene flanked by uniformed NSA officers, Virgil had circled the area and taken some surveillance photos with his phone. If this lead actually got them somewhere, he wanted to have enough evidence to convict.

Lucius and Bob, with Francis in tow looking uncomfortable around so many uniformed and armed men, marched up to the guard's station. Virgil landed beside them just in time to see Lucius brandish a warrant at the guard and Bob to forcibly open the gates for the officers to walk through.

The guard must have radioed ahead because Edwin Alva himself was waiting in the warehouse looking expectant. Lucius did the talking. He was good at legal jargon. "Mr. Alva, we have reason to believe an illegal weapon may have a connection to this warehouse. Do you mind if we have a look around?" He was asking to be polite. Alva's answer didn't matter one way or the other because Bob, Francis, Virgil, and the NSA men were already fanned out searching the area.

Francis placed a hand on one of dozens of large wooden crates lining the wall. They were robot-sized. Virgil found a label on one of the crates with the Specs and Trapper logo on it.

"As you can see, I'm not bothering to hide anything." Alva said from behind them. His voice was as calm as ever. Virgil wondered if he ever got upset.

Bob pried open one of the crates and an intact and immobile robot stared back at him. The senior NSA officer stepped forward. "We're seizing these crates as evidence." He pointed at his men, giving orders. "Seal off the area and gather up the employees for questioning. Call in some transportation to get these crates out of here."

The officers scurried off to do their work, leaving some to guard the robots. Alva looked resigned to his fate. "What happened last night was an accident. That robot was not supposed to have been activated."

Bob's eyes narrowed. "And yet somehow it was. Care to explain that?"

Alva shook his head. "My attention was elsewhere at that moment. I didn't see." He held his hands up, to indicate he was peaceful. "I made a legal transaction with some scientists, which in hindsight is perhaps too generous a word. I was going to have my engineers examine the robots in more detail. I thought the technology could be useful."

"These scientists." Virgil cut in. "Would they happen to be students at the Vanmoor Institute?"

Alva nodded. "Yes. Specs and Trapper." He frowned and a sharp line creased his brow. "They took off the moment their little science experiment got loose. I've been trying to track them down."

"Any idea where they might be?" Lucius asked. "We'd be interested in speaking with them."

"That's an understatement." Bob growled under his breath.

The look on Alva's face gave them their answer before he opened his mouth. "My resources haven't uncovered anything thus far."

Lucius nodded. "Then we'd better get back to looking." He nodded at Virgil. "Back in the air son."

Virgil flashed his dad a thumbs-up before hopping on his disc and taking off through the hole in the wall. Virgil could continue to look from the air while the other Supers searched on the ground.

Bob was already stalking towards the door and Francis hurried after him. Lucius stayed with Alva. "Cooperating with us is a good move on your part. But this is still going to be trouble for you. That robot was capable of illegal biological weaponry and the fact that it was in your possession means we're going to have to take you in for further questioning."

Alva nodded stiffly, as if he'd been expecting that. Lucius tried not to frown. It seemed like Alva had expected all of this. As a lawyer Lucius was pretty good at analyzing body language and reading between the lines. Alva was trying to present himself as the innocent businessman, probably trying to avoid a trial or jail time. Possibly even trying to keep his image in the press good. Lucius motioned for one of the NSA men to come over and deal with Alva.

He could try and work out Alva's motives later. He still had some evil teenaged scientists to find.

* * *

By the time the sun was setting, Dicker had arrived on the scene. Normally, when a Super is involved in an incident, Dicker's feet were the first on the ground. However, he had been responding to a Code Mauve in California at the same time a robot was tearing through downtown Dakota. He had had to wrap that up before hopping the first available flight.

Despite the spontaneous and often stressful nature of his schedule, when Bob and Lucius met with Dicker at the battles scene, he looked the same as always. Although significantly shorter in stature than either of the Supers, Dicker squared his shoulders and walked briskly about the personnel in a way that commanded respect. When he entered a room, people hushed in expectation of what he was going to say. And although Dicker was a man of few words, what he did say carried weight. There was no questioning why he was the head of the NSA.

Dicker took a lap around the street, surveying the damage from the fight and nodding to repair and rescue personnel as he passed them. He circled back to Bob and Lucius at the barricade to keep civilians and journalists out. He tapped a manila folder idly against his thigh before looking up at he two. His frown made the wrinkle between his eyebrows look like a deep furrow. "Maybe you'd better start at the beginning." Dicker said. He brandished the folder at them like a sword. "I read over the situation on the flight, but I think I'm missing a few details."

Bob and Lucius took turned running through the day's events and what they knew. Virgil's notes on Specs and Trapper's robot had been found and entered into evidence. They were rounding up the other students involved for questioning. Alva was in custody and awaiting interrogation. The manhunt for Specs and Trapper was still on. Police and NSA units were sweeping the city and posting alerts to nearby areas to be on the lookout for the two rogue students.

Dicker's already stony face turned even harder when Bob explained Helen and Dash's condition. The robot was clearly designed as a weapon against Supers; Dicker did not like someone threatening his people.

"And Virgil and Francis, where are they now?" Dicker asked after the explanation had come to an end.

"They're still on the trail. We're in contact." Lucius explained, holding up a shock-vox.

Dicker nodded and glanced around again at the churned up road littered with glass and brick from smashed buildings. A fire still smoldered on the next street over. Sirens were still echoing up and down the boulevards as first responders ferried the wounded and newly homeless across the city. "We'd better get to work."

* * *

Francis glowered at the setting sun. He and Virgil were supposed to report back to the hospital by the time the streetlights came on and their time was running out. The golden light swept over the rooftop Francis was standing on, casting everything into vivid, bright tones. Francis' scowl deepened and his crossed his arms. "I can't believe this. How many places can there be to hide in a city?"

Virgil hovered on his disc beside him. "I don't know. Thousands. Millions." He smirked at the frustrated pyro. "We have to remember we're not dealing with the common criminal. These guys are smart. We have to be smart too."

Francis nodded. "Alright, so what have we been doing wrong?" He glanced up at Virgil. "You're the smart one. Think of something."

"Genius on command _is_ what I'm known for." Virgil mused to himself. He set down on the roof and folded his disc into his jacket pocket. He began to pace back and forth. Francis followed his movements but didn't interrupt. Instead he hopped up to sit on the ledge of the roof and waited for Virgil.

Only a few minutes had passed before Virgil whirled to face Francis. "If I were building a giant, scary robot at the Sanctum, don't you think someone would notice? Even if I tried to keep it a secret?"

Francis quirked an eyebrow. "Um, yeah?"

"So, if Specs and Trapper had been building their freakish robot army at home or at school, then shouldn't someone have noticed?"

Francis nodded. "Yeah." He followed Virgil's train of thought. "Wait, they built these robots someplace else. Like a lab."

"Exactly like a lab!" Virgil punched one fist into the palm of the other, practically jumping with excitement. "And this lab would have to have some specific requirements, such as a large power supply to charge all of their little projects." He stopped to smirk smugly at Francis. He pointed one finger towards the sky and a spark ran up and down his hand. "And I happen to know someone who's very good at tracing electrical signals back to the source."

Francis grinned at Virgil. "That's my nerd." He jumped off the ledge and bumped fists with Virgil. "Let's go."

* * *

Virgil sat perched on the telephone pole like some bizarre overgrown crow. Both of his hands grasped at the electrical lines beside him and his eyes were closed in concentration.

Flowing through those cable were thousands and thousands of volts of electricity, coursing into and out of Virgil as he made his body into a giant conduit. As each charge went through him, Virgil examined it, turned it around and around, and read all the information the sparks could tell him.

His face, blank with concentration, suddenly expressed interest. "152 Richland?" He asked aloud, without opening his eyes or disrupting the electrical flow.

Francis, who was sitting cross-legged on a platform below Virgil, typed the address into his phone. "It's a night club."

Virgil went back to work; the tense rigidity of his shoulders the only sign of creeping frustration. They had been at this for at least an hour. The sun had long disappeared beyond the horizon. They were running out of time.

Francis craned his neck to watch Virgil for a moment before returning to his research. In the last hour they had eliminated some of the more obvious large, energy-eating locations in the city.

Virgil's entire body suddenly twitched and he grinned. "Courtland 1783."

Francis searched for the address and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. "It's a warehouse. By the docks." He scrolled down. "Hey Virg, supposedly all those warehouses are abandoned."

"Then why am I getting a large electrical surge from there?"

The two Supers exchanged looks and jumped to their feet.

* * *

"Where are those boys? They were supposed to be back by dark." Lucius paced back and forth in the hospital room. Bob and Helen watched him with patient amusement.

"Maybe they found a lead?" Helen suggested.

Lucius turned to her. "They're supposed to call in any leads."

"Relax Fro, they can handle themselves. They probably just wanted to squeeze in a little more search time. They're probably on their way back now." Bob offered, looking far less concerned than Lucius.

Lucius crossed his arms and then dropped them to his sides again in frustration. "Normally, I'd agree with you. But they're trying to find two scientists who have some how found a way to neutralize Super powers. I think that calls for a little worry."

Bob's brow furrowed. That was true. "Even so, they're well-trained. If they find anything, they'll call in."

As if on cue, the shock-vox on the nightstand suddenly buzzed and crackled to life. "Yo Pops, are you there?" Virgil's voice floated into the room.

Helen grabbed for the walkie-talkie. "Virgil, you two had better be on your way back."

"Um…not exactly."

"Care to explain?" Helen asked in her "mom" voice, which made the question more of a command and less of a request.

"We found a lead and we're going to investigate a warehouse down by the docks. It's large enough to house a laboratory and the electrical output is through the roof, considering those buildings are supposed to be boarded up and locked down."

Lucius grabbed for the shock-vox. "Virgil, don't do anything until back-up arrives. We'll call it into the NSA forces and then meet you there. Do not enter that building until we arrive."

"Understood Pops, see you there."

Bob stood up and stretched, popping his back loudly. "Let's suit up."

* * *

Francis and Virgil crept around the top of the warehouse, inching towards a glass skylight. A faint light from inside illuminated the roof and the two boys used every inch of their stealth training in approaching the window.

They reached the glass and peered inside. Desks with computers and paperwork lay directly under the window. Complicated looking scientific equipment lay off to the side. Enormous crates were stacked against the far wall. Harsh, artificial lighting from temporary lamps dotted the room. A shadow suddenly bounced into view and Francis and Virgil drew back from the window to avoid being seen. Two people walked into the room, arguing and shouting.

"That's them." Virgil hissed. "Specs and Trapper."

The two seemed to be getting angrier and angrier. Wild gesturing turned into shoving and they circled around each other as they shouted.

"We need to get out now, while we still have the chance." Specs shouted.

"Not until we get rid of the leftover experiments." Trapper argued.

"The longer we stay the more time those Supers have to find us. And I don't know about you, but I don't have any Super powers, they'll tear us to shreds!"

Trapper frowned but continued in an insistent voice. "We have an entire bay just outside these walls. We can dump the extras and be gone by morning."

Specs looked far from satisfied but he nodded. "Let's get going." He walked over to one of the crates and laid a hand on the wood. "Such a shame."

Trapper walked up beside him. "Yes, a truly unique piece of engineering. I hate to let it go to waste."

Specs suddenly perked up and a feral grin spread across his pale face. "We know the Supers are hunting us, chances are they'll find this place." He gestured at the crates. "Why not leave them a little welcoming gift?"

After a moment, Trapper returned the grin. "Activate the robots. Let them deal with the mess while we make our escape during the chaos. A truly genius plan Mr. Specs."

"Why thank you Mr. Trapper."

Trapper went over to the bank of computers and began typing while Specs grabbed a crowbar and opened the crate. An inert robot lay inside. Specs moved on to the next crate.

"They're going to turn the robots on!" Francis whispered. "We've got to get in there."

Virgil grabbed his arm. "Wait, my dad said not to go in without back-up."

"Virgil, back-up's gonna arrive just in time to get slaughtered by an army of those things. We need to get in there and corral those two nuts before they turn the robots on."

After a second's hesitation, Virgil nodded. "Let's go."

They crashed through the skylight and burst into action, hoping to shock Specs and Trapper and catch them before they could react.

Virgil dove for Trapper and Francis ran after Specs. Talented scientists they may be, skilled fighters they were not. Specs wielded the crowbar like a sword and took a wild swing at Francis, who simply ducked and buried a fist in Specs' stomach. The blond boy doubled up and crumpled to the ground.

Trapper spared Virgil a glance before typing in one final command and punching the 'enter' key. Virgil grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him from the desk chair. Trapper smirked in his face. "What's so funny?" Virgil asked.

"That." Trapper jerked his head back towards the crates and Virgil followed, paling when he saw the freed robot's light suddenly flare green.

"Hotstreak!" Virgil called in warning.

Francis looked up, noted the panic on Virgil's face, and then turned to the robot. It jerked upright and stepped out of its box, swiveling its head all around the warehouse before settling on Francis, the Super closest to it. "Oh shit." Francis swore and backpedaled away as the robot advanced towards him.

Specs choked out a winded laugh and got to his feet. "Nice work Mr. Trapper."

Virgil's eyes narrowed and he thrust Trapper back towards the computers. "Shut it down."

Trapper laughed. "No."

Virgil held up a sparking fist. "Shut it down _now_."

Trapper's eyes widened for a moment before his smirk returned. "You wouldn't. You're the good guys." He made the term sound mocking.

Virgil wanted to hit him; he really, really wanted to hit him. But Trapper was right. When dealing with non-Super suspects the use of powers wasn't acceptable unless they posed an imminent threat. Virgil threw Trapper aside and sat at the computer instead. "Let's see what we've got here."

Francis leapt away from a burst of green light and rolled into the wall of the warehouse, using it as leverage to get back to his feet. The robot swung an arm after the pyro and Francis ducked. The heavy metal arm swung through drywall and concrete and a cloud of dust enveloped both of them. Francis covered his head as bits of plaster rained down on him. Coughing and covered in a fine mist of white dust, Francis crawled away from the robot in the cover the sudden smoke screen gave him.

"Static! Can you shut this thing down?" Francis shouted once he had put some distance between himself and the behemoth.

"Working on it." Virgil called back, his eyes glued to the computer screen and his fingers flashing over the keyboard.

With the attentions of both Supers directed elsewhere, Trapper ran to Specs, pulled his friend to his feet, and began moving towards the door. Virgil caught their movement out of the corner of his eye and he burst from the chair. "Where do you think you're going?"

Specs and Trapper made a run for it but Virgil magnetized the doors shut and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his coat. "You two aren't going anywhere."

With the two locked together around a water pipe, Virgil ran back for the computer. Crashes and yells from the back of the warehouse told him Francis was still fighting.

"Any day now V." Francis grunted as he hit the floor yet again. He scrambled under a desk for cover as the robot sent another flash of green at him. He was not expecting the table to catch fire from the blast. He yelped in surprise and then grinned. He planted both feet on the underside of the table and kicked it up into the robot's face. The fire and embers stole the robot's attention for a moment and allowed Francis to get back to his feet.

Virgil laughed in triumph when he finally found the shut down sequence. He began typing it in when Francis and the robot came crashing back into the main room. The robot crunched through anything in its path, computers, scanners, and beakers becoming pits of glass and plastic under its tread.

Francis feinted left and then ran right, but the robot tracked him and this time the flash of green light hit the pyro square in the chest. Francis' eyes went wide and he collapsed backwards. "No!" Virgil feverishly typed in the last few bits of code and punched the 'enter' key. The robot stutter-stepped and then jerked to a halt, its open claw extended towards Francis.

Virgil leapt to his feet and ran to Francis. He knelt at his friend's side and checked the other boy over with worry in his eyes. "Francis? Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Francis groaned, his face pale with pain. "It hurts, I can't feel it."

"What?" Virgil asked.

Francis grabbed at Virgil's coat. "I can't feel the fire. It's not there." A shiver went up and down Francis' body and he whimpered. "It's so cold."

* * *

"I told you to wait for back-up." Lucius said sternly. His eyes flashed from his son standing in front of him to Francis, being loaded into an ambulance.

"We were." Virgil insisted. The father and son stood off to the side, allowing the NSA men to sweep the warehouse while they argued. "But Specs and Trapper were activating the robots, we had to go in to stop them before they were activated."

Lucius still looked unhappy about the situation, but he couldn't fault their reasoning. He would have done the dame thing. Had done the same thing many times before. He nodded and then pulled Virgil into a one-armed hug. "You alright?"

"I'm fine." Virgil said. "Didn't even break a sweat." They both looked over to the ambulance to where Bob was speaking in hushed tones with a paramedic. "He is going to be okay, right? All of them will be okay?"

Lucius squeezed Virgil's shoulder. "The doctors are positive that the effects are only temporary. They'll be fine, in a few days."

They watched the ambulance peel away, even as more NSA mobile units poured into the area. Bob walked over to them, his face pale and tired. "How is he?" Lucius asked as his friend approached.

"The same as Helen and Dash, except he can't stop shivering." Bob shrugged. "I suppose always having a higher than average body temperature and then suddenly being dropped down to 98.6 would be a bit of a shock. They've got him wrapped up in heated blankets to try and make him comfortable." He looked Virgil over quickly to assure himself that the other boy was alright before jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Let's get out of here. The delinquent scientists are on their way to the station and I'd really like to avoid another briefing from Dicker."

As Virgil pulled his disc out of his coat, Bob patted him on the shoulder and smiled at the boy. "You two did good work tonight."

Virgil returned the smile, although it didn't feel like good work. More than half their team was in the hospital. He jumped onto his disc and floated upwards into the dark night sky. Sometimes, he thought as he watched his father and Bob commandeer an NSA car, victory comes at a steep price.

* * *

"Enough with the needles and the poking and the stupid blood tests!" Francis wrenched his arm away from the nurse. "I feel fine."

"Francis please, would you just let the nice lady do her job?" Helen asked, exasperation in her voice.

Three days later and Helen and Dash had mostly recovered from their run-in with the robot. Neither of them was back to full power yet, but they no longer felt sickly and exhausted. Francis, on the other hand, was not quite out of that phase and was determined to be as uncooperative a patient as he could be.

"Don't worry Elastigirl, I've been a nurse for twenty years. I know how to work with all kinds of patients." The nurse smiled at Helen and then walked over to the IV drip bag by Francis' bedside. While Francis was looking the other way, she injected a needle of morphine into the solution. Francis turned to look at her, then the needle in her hand, then the IV bag.

"Not fair." He slurred, eyes suddenly drooping.

The nurse patted him on the head. "Go to sleep dear."

Within seconds, Francis was asleep and the nurse and Helen exchanged amused smiles.

The nurse finished up with her task and then tidied up before leaving the room. Because Helen and Dash had been released, Francis now shared the room with Violet, who was also recovering well from her head injury. She still complained of dizziness and nausea but was able to remain conscious and lucid throughout the day. Helen scooped Jack-Jack up from the foot of Francis' bed and swung him around, making the little boy giggle with glee.

Helen twisted around to make sure the sound hadn't disturbed Francis, but he was sleeping a sound, drug-induced slumber. Helen cuddled Jack-Jack to her chest and smiled at her son, rubbing her nose against his for a moment, making Jack-Jack laugh. "Everybody's alive and in one piece. Maybe things can get a little less complicated around here now." She said to herself, continuing to sway and dance around the room.

Jack-Jack's eyes settled on the doorway and a broad smile crossed his little face. "Da!" He stretched his arms out towards the door.

Helen turned to see Bob, Dash, and Violet entering the room. The doctor had recommended Violet get up and moving so Bob and Dash had taken her for a walk around the hospital, all three of them wearing masks to hide their identities.

Bob crossed the room and swept Jack-Jack into his arms. "Did someone call for their Daddy? I think they did."

"No way. He said my name." Dash insisted.

Violet rolled her eyes. "Not this again."

Helen smiled at her bickering family and helped Violet back into bed. Francis shifted restlessly. She turned back to Bob. "Hush, you're going to wake him."

Bob and Dash glanced over at Francis and then both lowered their voices sheepishly. "Sorry." Father and son apologized in unison.

"How are you feeling sweetie?" Helen asked, sitting on the edge of Violet's bed and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her daughter's ear.

Violet smiled. "I'm fine Mom, really. I'm feeling a lot better. I didn't get dizzy at all walking with Dad and Dash."

"That's good to hear." Helen ran a hand over the bandage still wrapped around Violet's head. "But the doctor wants to keep you for a few more days, just to be sure there will be no lasting effects."

"A few more days?" Violet moaned. "I'm so tired of the hospital. It's boring and the food sucks." She turned hopeful eyes on Helen. "Can't I just take it easy at home?"

Helen shook her head. "Doctor's orders Vi. Besides," Helen adjusted the blanket around Violet. "You can keep Francis company."

"What did he do now?" Bob asked, a smile in his voice. Francis' phobia of doctors and hospitals had led to several amusing moments in the last few days.

"Made a nurse's life a little more difficult than it had to be." Helen explained.

Bob chuckled and bounced Jack-Jack in his arms. The family was so busy talking over one another and laughing at stories that no one noticed that the door to the hospital room had been left open and that a red-haired girl was standing in the entrance.

She hesitantly reached out and knocked on the open door.

All eyes turned to the doorway and Violet gasped. "Frieda!"

Bob and Helen exchanged panicked looks. Bob attempted to hide Jack-Jack behind his back. "This is a private area."

"Um, I'm sorry to intrude. I just wanted to see if Francis was alright. I haven't heard anything in a few days and the news was saying that Hotstreak got hurt so I…"

"WHAT!" Bob roared suddenly.

Francis sat up, dazed and confused from sleep. "Whazza?"

Bob rounded on Francis. "You told her?"

Francis looked from Bob to Frieda and then back again. His brow furrowed as he tried put the pieces together again. Then his eyes shot back to Frieda. "Oh!"

"Yes '_oh_.'" Helen frowned.

Bob motioned at Frieda. "Come in, shut the door."

Frieda stepped into the room. "I didn't mean to cause a fuss."

"Everybody stop, wait a second before you start yelling." Francis swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up a little shakily. Helen looked like she wanted to tie him back to the bed so he walked over to Frieda and put an arm around her shoulders. "Hi."

"Hi." Frieda turned into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his chest. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Before you begin divulging details of an on-going investigation, I'd like to know why it is that your girlfriend knows so much about our pastime." Bob cut in. "Because I'm pretty sure that one of the first things I taught you was that your secret identity is meant to be a secret."

Francis sighed. "I told her. I told her everything." Helen and Bob did not look happy. Francis continued. "Although to be fair, she kind of figured most of it out on her own."

Frieda, sensing the tension in the room, jumped in to defend Francis. "I promised I wouldn't say anything and I won't."

Bob ran a hand tiredly over his face. "It's not that simple."

* * *

"So Miss Goren, why don't we start at the beginning? Let's talk about your relationship with Francis."

Frieda sat stiffly in the cold chair, hands clasped together in her lap. "Well, at first he was kind of annoying."

Dicker raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. He gestured for Frieda to continue. It was just the two of them sitting in an old office room on opposite sides of a slim desk.

"He was pretty…insistent is probably the right word. He wanted to go out with me but I wasn't really interested." Frieda looked down at her hands. "Actually, I think I hurt his feelings." She glanced back up at Dicker. He was listening quietly, his face betraying none of his thoughts or feelings. Frieda took a deep breath and continued. "And after that we became friends. We spent a lot of time together and I learned a lot about him, not as much as he was keeping from me it turned out." She sighed. "But I can't blame him for that. Anyway, we sort of slowly stopped being friends and started being something else."

She looked up sharply. "Mr. Dicker, I love Francis. I want to be with him. He makes me feel good about myself and he's always trying to protect me and make me laugh." Her eyes were hard and serious. "I want to protect him too, and I will. Whatever that takes."

Dicker said nothing, but simply folded his hands atop the desk and quietly considered the girl before him.

* * *

"What the big deal?" Francis asked. "She goes in, talks to Dicker, then we move on. Frieda promised not to tell and she won't."

"It's not always like that Francis." Violet insisted. She had followed him from their shared hospital room and was waiting anxiously for Frieda to return from her talk with Dicker. "In Metroville I have a friend named Kari. When we went to fight Syndrome, we left Jack-Jack with her."

Francis' eyes widened. He knew full well what babysitting Jack-Jack was like.

"He didn't have his powers yet, we thought it was safe." Violet explained. "Of course, when we got back the house was a wreck, Jack-Jack was on fire, and Kari had seen way too much. She went for a talk with Dicker." Violet made sure Francis was listening before continuing. "Now she doesn't even remember I have a baby brother."

Francis nearly jumped from his seat. "Wait, you're saying Dicker could take Frieda's memories away? Her memories of me? He can make her forget me?" Francis threw a panicked look down the hall where Frieda and Dicker had disappeared. "No." He shakily got to his feet and started down the hallway but Violet caught his arm.

"Francis, wait. We don't know if…"

"I'm not taking that chance. Let go!"

"Just listen for a second."

"Whoa, what's the problem guys?"

Francis and Violet turned away from their argument to find Frieda standing in front of them, a light, easy smile on her face. Francis shrugged Violet off and hurried over to his girlfriend. "You…are you okay?" Francis ran his hands up Frieda's arms, looking her over with a critical eye as though he could see if her memories had been tampered with.

Frieda laughed. "Yes, I'm fine. Mr. Dicker and I came to an understanding." She went up on tiptoe and kissed Francis, just a brief sweet touch of their lips. Her mouth lingered by his ear. "He thinks I'm good for you."

Francis blinked in response and then noticed Dicker standing a little ways down the hall watching them, and although his face was as blank as usual, there was a little twinkle in his eyes that was usually absent. Francis nodded at the NSA man in gratitude. Dicker returned the acknowledgement before turning and walking towards the door, leaving the teens happily together.

* * *

Richie set down the newspaper, and turned it over so he wouldn't have to look at Specs and Trapper's photos plastered across the front page. The Dakota Daily had run a full expose on the two teenaged scientists and their robots. Almost every reporter and news outlet in the country was denouncing the attacks and the technology as genocidal. A direct attack on a specific group of people, Supers. Of course there was always that small, outspoken section of the populace who questioned the use or need for Supers, and who were rallying around Specs and Trapper, hailing them as "evolutionary thinkers." Humans vs. Supers, them vs. us.

Richie shuddered when he thought about it. As far as he was concerned, Supers were mostly good people who put aside their own lives and safety to protect others. There were bad eggs in the bunch, but that could be said about any group of people. Richie was grateful to have the Incredibles and their team and felt safer having them around. Another thought crossed his mind as he glanced at the folded paper in front of him. The Daily had talked about the technology used by Specs and Trapper, and how it had a short-term effect. Several scientists had been quoted about the lack of sophistication of the technology. That just meant that others, smarter more qualified people, would be looking at that technology and would probably fine-tune it into a more lethal, long-term weapon. Richie pushed the thought from his mind and looked up as more customers streamed in through the door.

The small coffee shop he was sitting in was crowded with the morning traffic of people stopping for coffee and breakfast on their way to work. He sipped at his hot chocolate and sat back for a little people-watching, one of his favorite activities. You could learn a lot about a person just from watching them for a few moments without them knowing it. For instance, the woman in the red coat second in line, had streaks of colored marker ink on her hand. She fumbled with her wallet as she approached the counter and Richie noted that it was bulging with photos. Clearly a mother, and based on her frequent looks out the window and the three chocolate milks she bought, they were waiting in the car for her to get back.

Richie jumped up and held the door open for her. She smiled gratefully at him, her hands full with her oversized purse and milk bottles, before hurrying to her minivan. Richie went back to his little chair, tucked away in the corner where he could see everything and everyone and wait for Virgil to show up. He checked his watch. Virgil was five minutes late.

Another two minutes passed before Virgil stumbled in the door, looked around the shop, spotted, Richie, and fell into the chair opposite his friend. "Hey bro, what's up?"

"Just waiting for you." Richie grinned so Virgil would know he wasn't serious. "How's Vi doing?"

Virgil hadn't spoken with Richie since before the whole Specs and Trapper debacle so as far as the blond boy knew, Violet was still in the hospital from the motorcycle accident. "She's much better. She got released a few days ago and there doesn't seem to be any long-term damage."

"Good, I'm glad. Maybe I can drop by and visit her some time." Richie sipped at his hot chocolate. "I miss you guys, I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."

Virgil nodded. "Sorry about that. Things have been kind of hectic lately. How are things with you?"

"Kind of hectic." Richie grinned again. "My house took a little collateral damage from that robot, so we've been bunking down with my aunt until the contractors give it the okay."

Virgil's eyes widened. "What, really? Are you guys okay? I didn't know."

Richie waved the sudden wave of concern away. "We're fine. The only trouble is that I didn't know I was allergic to my aunt's five cats." He sniffed and smiled.

Virgil chuckled. "Bummer man. Any time you need to give your sinuses a break, give me a call. We'll go shoot hoops or something."

"Thanks." Richie swirled the last of his hot chocolate around in the cup. "So how's everything on your end? Francis hasn't been to school in a while and Frieda's being oddly tight-lipped about it all."

Now it was Virgil's turn to wave off concern. "He's fine. There was a family thing we had to deal with but it's settled. Francis and Violet should both be back in school on Monday."

"Good." Richie leaned back in his chair, an easy smile on his face. "So, have you read the latest Molecule Man?"

* * *

"Dash! You're going to be late for school!" Helen charged around the house, Jack-Jack balanced on one hip, a basketful of laundry on the other. A blond blur raced past her and circled the kitchen. An apple and a brown paper lunch bag were swept off the counter.

"Bye Mom!" Dash shouted as he continued to the front door, slowing down only for as long as it took to turn the knob.

Helen shook her head in exasperation. She bounced Jack-Jack and then smiled down at him when he laughed happily. "You're not going to give me so much trouble when you start school are you?" Jack-Jack just let loose with another peal of laughter.

A strong pair of arms wrapper around her waist and Helen leaned back into her husband's solid chest. Bob took the hamper of laundry from her and kissed her cheek. "All the kids off to school?"

"Dash just left." Helen replied.

Bob smiled and followed Helen to the laundry room. While she sorted clothes, Bob entertained Jack-Jack. "Where's the baby? Where's the baby?" Bob uncovered his eyes and scooped his son into his arms. "There he is!"

Jack-Jack expressed his delight by threading his fingers in his father's hair and pulling on it, hard.

"Ow." Bob worked to untangle Jack-Jack's fingers from his head. He looked over to Helen. "A little help?"

Helen was holding one of Francis' shirts and when she glanced up, she just snorted and gave Bob one of her amused looks. "What, the famous Mr. Incredible can't handle a little hair-pulling?"

"Ha ha." Bob muttered, but his voice was the same light teasing tone as his wife's.

Helen folded Francis' shirt and reached for another. "I swear, every time I do the laundry the number of clothes has multiplied. I know I haven't taken any of the kids shopping lately. Where do all these clothes come from?"

Having finally separated Jack-Jack from his hair, Bob sidled up beside his wide. "Well, that's what happens when you've got four kids."

Helen paused in her folding and then shook her head, a soft smile on her face. "Four kids. And wasn't that last one a surprise?"

"Very unplanned." Bob agreed. "Our happy little accident."

Helen laughed and turned around to swat at Bob with the shirt. "I wouldn't say that around Francis if I was you."

* * *

"Francis!" Frieda met her boyfriend and Violet in the parking lot, Richie trailing along behind her. She stepped into Francis' open arms. While Richie was greeting Violet, Frieda quickly checked Francis over for any lingering signs of illness. He looked fine and fit, and the patiently exasperated look on his face told her he knew exactly what she was doing.

"I'm fine." He whispered. "Honestly."

"That's a fine looking bruise you've got there Vi." Richie pointed out.

The last remnant of the motorcycle accident that had caused so much grief and anguish was a bruise on Violet's forehead. The fading brown and yellow bruise would be gone in a few days. Violet put a hand to the mark but just smiled. "It makes me look tough doesn't it?"

Richie nodded. "Oh, very tough. Fearsome even." Violet laughed and the group started walked towards the school entrance.

All of the sudden, several police cars raced by with their sirens blaring. Francis and Violet exchanged looks and Frieda's grip tightened on Francis' arm. "I wonder what's up?" Richie asked aloud for all of them.

The crackle of a walkie-talkie sounded from inside the motorcycle's under-seat compartment. "Uh, I think I forgot my notebook. I'll go get it." Violet said quickly, hurrying back over to the bike and giving Francis a meaningful look as she passed him.

Francis, in turn, gave the same look to Frieda. She sighed, nodded, and then turned to Richie. "Hey Rich, can I borrow your calculator for calculus today? I left mine at home."

Richie stared at her quizzically for a second. "Uh sure. We'd better hurry though, the bell's gonna ring any second."

"I'm right behind you." Frieda assured Richie. She and Francis watched him walk off. She turned back to her boyfriend. "Be careful?"

Francis swooped in and kissed her, quickly though because Violet was making impatient noises behind him. "Always. See you at lunch?"

"I'd better." Frieda smiled.

Francis hurried to Violet. "What's up?"

She held up a shock-vox. "Virg called in a rogue Super near Vanmoor. He's already on the scene and he's calling for back up. Some guy with huge feet."

"Feet?" Francis snorted and shook his head. "There sure are some weird superpowers out there." He took the helmet Violet offered him and they both got on the motorcycle. He revved the engine and grinned. "Well, duty calls."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Two years, ten months, and around eleven days later and this story is finally finished. I profusely apologize and am eternally grateful to anyone who's stuck around since the beginning. This was a long haul.

I also have to apologize about how late this final chapter is. I completely lost track of time. All of my deadlines came and went without my noticing. To make up for it, however, this is the absolute longest chapter I've ever written. Clocking in at 20 pages and some 8,000 words. So there's that anyway.

I tried to wrap everything up nicely and give everyone their final moment. I hope you guys are as satisfied with the ending as I am, because I'm pretty fond of it.

I don't have any new story ideas in the works at the moment, so I'm not sure when I'll next be posting here. But thanks again to all my readers and especially my reviewers. I love you guys.

PLEASE REVIEW!


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